


Captain Marvel: Pure Love

by cassacain



Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: F/M, hmmm this is a mess but it was for fun so imma post it and see what happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 11:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 32,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22191343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassacain/pseuds/cassacain
Summary: Vers is an accomplished member of the elite Starforce, favorite of the (very handsome) Yon-Rogg, and on the fast track to meeting Ronan the Accuser himself. She has life made, yet memories of a life she can't remember but wishes she knew come to her in her sleep. When she meets Ronan herself, her life begins to hurtle out of control.
Relationships: Carol Danvers & Maria Rambeau & Monica Rambeau, Carol Danvers/Yon-Rogg
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	1. On Hala

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! 
> 
> So, Captain Marvel came out last year and as incredible as it was to see Marvel's first woman led superhero movie, I will admit that it wasn't all that I wanted and more. I wanted more Carol, less Talos and Nick Fury...I simply felt that there was all sorts of untapped potential in the movie, and this fanfiction is my way of trying to access that!
> 
> It's totally fine to disagree--I know for a lot of people the Captain Marvel movie was everything they wanted--and I hope you enjoy this fanfiction either way. Feel free to drop me a comment with your thoughts and thanks for checking it out!
> 
> Oh, also, just as a warning I jump between Vers' memories and her current life which I will indicate with a little title.

Being Small

~

It was dusty out.

Desert life was like that. This part of America was arid and dry, and her lips were almost always chapped, her cheeks almost always burnt. She scraped strands of blonde hair back, wandering up the hill where her dad had disappeared with her older brother. Back home, her mom scraped out a saucepan, cleaning up after dinner and calling, Carol, Carol. 

Only, Carol didn’t want to help her put up the dishes, she wanted to see what her father and brother were up to. She peered over the edge of the hill, getting to her feet and staring down. Below, her brother held a long gun, her father directing him in how to aim it.

Down the way, a rabbit sat. Carol went tense; the gun was aimed at the rabbit. Her mind jumped to Bugs Bunny, the Easter bunny, the petting zoo her mother took her to where she held tiny rabbits with fast-beating hearts. The gun was fixed on the rabbit, and the wind turned so she could hear her dad’s quiet, muffled voice. Aim, and now, fi--

“Don’t shoot it!” Carol yelled. The rabbit’s ears jumped up and it ripped into action, sprinting off and out of the aim of the gun. Carol watched it run and smiled for a moment, the pink-red sunset highlighting it as it dashed to freedom.

“Carol!” Her father’s voice roared her back to reality. Her brother was staring at her with a shocked expression, but her father was angry, a frown set about his bushy beard. He had let go of his hold on the gun and was stomping up towards her. Carol let out a sharp little noise, like a yelp, and turned and ran down the incline. She slipped, stumbling and tearing her knees open over dirt and sharp rocks. She sat for a moment, palms running to her knees and tears bubbling up. A hand hooked on her upper arm, dragging her to her feet.

“Why aren’t you inside helping your mother with the dishes?” Her father yelled, a bit of spittle landing on her cheek. “Look what you did!” He gestured at her scraped-up knees. There was a vein standing out in his neck, the way it almost always did when he was addressing her directly.

She had only one defense: tear up. A little whimper-sound escaped her throat. Her father scoffed.

“Oh, come on now, don’t you cry. You’re the one not doing what you should,” he grumbled, but the red was fading back from his face. Still, he retained the tight grip on her arm as he pulled her toward the house, bringing her in with him.

“Carol, where were you?” Her mother cried as they approached, brother following with the gun on his shoulder. She gasped as they came closer. “Oh, goodness, your knees! What happened?” Her mother asked. Instead of answering, Carol threw her arms around her mother’s hipline and hugged on tight.

“I’ll tell you what happened, she’s out of control. Keep her inside and keep an eye on her, alright?” Her father snapped.

“John, come on, she’s upset—“ her mother tried.

“No, I’m tired of it! She’s always doing stuff like this, overextending herself, and getting hurt! It’s the job of the mother to keep her reigned in!”

“John,” her mother sighed again. Carol had her face buried against her mother’s stomach, tears soaked up in her skirt. She could feel the soothing caress of her mother massaging the top and back of her head, mussing up her hair even as she argued with her father.

“I’m telling you the way it’ll be! Next time, I tan her hide!”

“Whatever you say, dear. Let me settle her on down,” mom waited for dad to slam the door shut, and for the brother to pass. She gave him instructions—put the gun back where it belongs, then go inside and wash your face, please—and waited until he was gone. Then she gently pried Carol’s hands loose, squatting to her level and addressing her with a placating smile.

She turned Carol’s face up toward her, thumbing away tears. “It’s okay, sweetie. Don’t worry about all of that. All you need to remember is that none of this would have happened if you’d only just been inside helping me with the dishes.”

~

On Hala

~

Vers woke from the strange dream wiping at her face.

She sat up, her mouth still dry from the golden-dust, and her cheeks still wet. It was that strange pressing, clogged-chest feeling she got when she had experienced a memory lodged in her dreams. Breathless, she grinned, looking about the dim, dark room, curtains pulled to block out the orange-moonlight. She got to her feet, picking up her dream log, and jotting down the important notes: I was young, blonde hair even back then, living on a strange planet. America, that’s what I called it in my thoughts. A desert. I didn’t see any powers in the dream this time, so I still don’t know how I got them. Maybe I wasn’t born with them, like the doctors say I was? Or maybe they just hadn’t shown themselves yet. Parents were mad, I think I had a brother. I don’t know their names. It could be a fake-memory, like that show I watched that was really just fiction, but I don’t know. It felt so real when I scraped my knees. I hope it was real, I like the idea of having a mother and a father.

Vers paused from writing, looking up at the wall across from her. She smiled a moment; a mother. She had hugged her mother, possibly, years and years ago on some dusty foreign planet. Had that been their last hug? She’d forgotten most of the dream’s details by now, but she still remembered that face. Dark eyes, sandy-brown hair, a soothing (at the edges annoyed) smile. She felt so real, like an actual thing with thoughts and feelings. Tangible. Far-off, but tangible.

Was she still alive? The thought gave Vers chills all over. Excited chills, though. She felt exhilarated, like she could run a thousand miles and still not be tired. Maybe it was the glow—that was what she had taken to calling her powers, the glow—or maybe it was just the excitement of another potential memory. Didn’t matter; either way, it was really stinking cool.

She glanced over at the time. Not long past midnight, which meant Yon-Rogg was probably asleep. No sense in waking him, she was only supposed to wake him if she’d had a bad dream or a bad memory, like that one she saw that was really just a show. She bit her lip, remembering that one: somehow, her silly brain had switched the face of the bad guy of some random movie with Yon-Rogg, and he’d had a gun aimed at her. Yon-Rogg would never do that, he’d rescued her after she’d been hurt by the Skrulls.

Of course, she’d been being trafficked back then, so Yon-Rogg explained to her that her brain naturally didn’t trust anymore. She’d been tricked into Skrull captivity so she naturally had subconscious defenses against getting tricked again. That explained the bad dream, the fake memory. Luckily, she had gotten past all of that stuff, and she could trust.

She washed her face in the sink, stretching her shoulders out and smiling at her reflection. Tan skin, loose blonde hair, bright pink lips—Vers was definitely a fan of her own looks, she could admit that, flashing a toothy, vivaciously white grin at herself. She winked too, striking a pose and flipping her hair. She didn’t get why so many people pouted and sulked about their appearances, it was much more fun to just own it. That was her mantra, anyway. It was easier thinking like that, especially as a minority on a Kree planet, where everyone’s skin was glossy, gorgeous turquoise and she was a strange, dirty pale brown-pink color. Vers got a lot of looks that way.

Still, she was her own cheerleader. Amped up, she changed quickly into a casual shirt and messy pants and patter barefoot down the hallway. There wasn’t much to look at, just rows of doors in spaceship-style architecture that led to the mess hall. Through there, the training room. She headed in, still buzzing with energy from her strange dream and her self-administered pep talk. It was empty, as places are apt to be just after midnight, which meant it was time.

“Alright, girl. A mere, what…well, it’s 2:00 AM, which mean six more hours makes it 8:00 AM—Oh! Okay, a mere six hours from now, Vers, your unit joins the great Ronan the Accuser—“ she giggled ecstatically at that, it still felt surreal even if she was just giving herself another stupid pep talk, “—that’s right, Ronan the one and only Accuser, in battle! And Yon-Rogg has been saying you’re the star component. So, time to be a star.” As she spoke, she stretched out, doing some of the old vigorous workout techniques Yon-Rogg had shown all of them. She did a few more, balancing her breaths carefully to be deep and fast, before getting to her feet. She began to run the track, jumping the hurtles and dodging the other obstacles, her hair bouncing around her shoulder and sticking to her face. Her blonde hair was always all over her face, and she’d wished she’d tied it back before leaving her room in annoyance. 

She was pushing it from her face when the door opened. “For the last time, Vers, have a ponytail holder on your wrist above your watch at all times. This is why your suit has a built-in mechanism for holding your hair.” Vers jumped at the voice, pausing her run and jogging in place for a moment.

“Yon-Rogg!” She cried, giddy. “What are you doing up?”

The man was walking across the exercise room, rolling his shoulders. He chuckled at her excitement, as he always did. He was dressed almost identically to her, his hair mussed from sleep but his eyes as awake and aware as always. He was another pink-skinned Kree, which contributed to how quickly Vers and him had bonded. They weren’t exactly common in these parts, after all.

“Well, we’re going before Ronan the Accuser tomorrow. Makes me a bit restless. Besides, I get a ping whenever my crew members wake up, remember?” He lifted his wrist, indicating his team captain watch.

Vers cringed. “And I stand by my earlier assertion that knowing when we’re awake or asleep is weird.”

Yon-Rogg smirked. “You would say that. For the last time, Vers, privacy is a privilege, not a right.” He looked over the track, shaking his head. “Look at this. This isn’t what you should be practicing, Vers.”

Vers left the track, walking across toward him. She decided to let go of the privacy thing, despite it annoying her greatly. She valued her privacy and thought of it as a right, not a privilege, but as Yon-Rogg had pointed out it was likely a leftover from the space trafficking thing. The Kree weren’t taking advantage of her, so she shouldn’t need privacy. “And what should I be practicing?” She asked, her voice faux-testy. “I mean, this isn’t a training session, this is technically during my sleep time. So, I should, in theory, be able to practice whatever I want to.” She cocked her head playfully, smiling at Yon-Rogg.

“If you’re down here practicing anyway, I think you should be working on the glow.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Unless you want to tell me you’ve mastered that?”

She flushed a little, couldn’t help it. “Well mastered is a strong word.”

Yon-Rogg leaned in, and Vers half-thought for a second he was going to kiss her. His hand went to her neck. “Then time to practice.” He brushed the little circle on the back of her neck and she realized he was referencing her control device, not kissing her, and felt altogether painfully silly at once. Crap, what was she even thinking, wanting her commanding officer to kiss her? What a mess.

“I can’t exactly disobey a direct order, Captain, so you got it.” Vers said, winked, and then turned to the open training room. Across the way, there were targets for long-distance fighters to aim at.

“Alright,” Yon-Rogg said, seeing what she was going to do and crossing his arms, watching her appraisingly. Vers fixed her stance, raising her arms. “Remember, fixed stance, so the photon blasts don’t throw you off-balance.” That was how he preferred it; she called it the glow, he called it photon blasts. Same difference, Vers figured, she just had the prettier name for it.

Vers grit her teeth, the power surging from her chest to her shoulders, snaking down her arms and beginning to effuse from her pores, hovering hot in the air around her arms. She frowned, focusing her eyes on her chosen target across the room, and blast! The hot energy left her hands like snakes, twisting in the air like lightning bolts and fixing into one large beam in less than a second, ramming a fiery dent into the wall just above the target.

“Hm. The goal was to aim for the target, yes?” Yon-Rogg said sarcastically. Vers teetered on hurt feelings and amusement, and chose the easier route. She laughed.

“Okay, good one. Point taken, I could use more practice.” She said, looking down at her hands. Yon-Rogg chuckled too.

“You’re doing better than you were, though. In last night’s practice you were hitting the targets more than half the time.” This comment was too far; her cheeks blazed hot with embarrassment.

“I’m trying! It’s just so much, it feels like…like if a gun if the strike of a snake, this power I have feels like a dragon!” Vers exclaimed, exasperated. She knew she wasn’t making much sense, but, all the same, how else could she explain it? It ran hot, like the lava of a volcano. Or, maybe hotter than that, like a burning star. Sometimes, it felt like a star’s explosion. Okay, that might have been a dramatic thought; she bit her lip, trying to reign her emotions back in.

“Vers, this is just a part of your power. That thing on the back of your neck is withholding the rest, but if you can’t even handle this—“

“I can handle it!” Vers raised her voice suddenly. Yon-Rogg quirked an eyebrow and tossed a pointed glance at the wall where she’d missed her target. “Okay, let me amend that. I can handle it, I just can’t aim!” She said, her voice lightening at the last words.

“That’s true enough; even when you’re using a gun, I’ve seen better markswomen.” Yon-Rogg said. He paused, decided that wasn’t harsh enough, and went back in. “Far better markswomen. Like Minn-Erva.”

Vers flushed again. Damn her pale dirt-pink skin. If she was a Kree-turquoise, no one could see her emotions play out like this. Yon-Rogg narrowed his eyes at her. “Come on now, you’re still the star of the show. With powers like yours, no one can take your place.”

“So, basically, I’ve only got the place I have because of my powers?” Vers replied, forcing a smile. She wanted to make it sassy, maybe a little fun. 

Yon-Rogg replied, quickly, “If believing that makes you train harder,” he studied her face, apparently recognizing he’d done his part to plant the seeds of inspiration. “Look, in the heat of battle, you aren’t just standing there straining to hit the target. You’re moving, active. You feel where the blast needs to go in your chest. That’s when your aim is best. You can control where it goes better if you aren’t overthinking it.”

“It’s difficult not to overthink it with you watching me,” Vers replied, thinking of the intensity of his dark eyes on her back.

“Then imagine how difficult it will be with Ronan the Accuser watching you.” Vers flushed at those words, and Yon-Rogg laughed. “Especially after everyone’s been telling him about your powers.”

“All because of that stupid mission,” Vers grumbled, the pressure mounting. She was shocked she was able to sleep, or even able to relish that dumb memory-dream. She was almost lucky to have such a short attention span.

“The mission wasn’t stupid, it put our unit on the radar. Because of your powers, we were able to take a full ship of Skrull soldiers. That’s incredible, Vers,” Yon-Rogg said, beaming with pride. She couldn’t handle him like that, the creeping feelings came back and she flushed, her glow acting up. She averted her gaze.

“In the moment, I did good. But I’m not reliable. I just have so many problems.” Great, self-deprecation. She felt like smacking herself, why was she trying to get affirmation from Yon-Rogg right now? Her own anger with herself made her 

“What do you mean, problems?” Yon-Rogg echoed, centering himself in front of her.

Vers flushed. “Never mind it.” She went to turn away, but he caught her elbows and turned her back to face him.

“Tell me what you think is wrong with you, Vers,” Yon-Rogg said, insistently, eyes burning with determination. He thought it was something to do with the mission, Vers supposed, and probably wanted to build her confidence. Vers hesitated. “It doesn’t matter if it’s small, tell me what you think these so-called problems are.”

She took a breath. “Well…it’s all small stuff, but sometimes I feel so out of place. Everyone has Kree-blue skin, and dark hair, and I’ve got pink skin and yellow hair, I mean, who has yellow hair—“

“I have skin just like yours. And your hair is beautiful. Both are invalid problems,” Yon-Rogg said confidently, with the tone of someone who had just fixed a small but inconvenient problem.

“Well, I’ve got this random little thing beside my eye, too,” Vers said, covering the little brown spot beside her eye with her hand. But, it was too late. 

Yon-Rogg had noticed the little mark on her upper cheek. “What is that?” He asked, crooking a brow up as if he’d never seen it before. He moved her hand from her cheek.

“I don’t really know, just a spot,” Vers said averting her eyes in embarrassment. Why was she drawing Yon-Rogg’s attention to her flaws?

He smiled, amused. “I like it, it’s cute. Whimsical like you. They call it a beauty mark in some Kree circles.”

“It’s an imperfection,” Vers said, nibbling her lip. She was focused on the feeling of his hand around her wrist. 

“Imperfect, maybe, but still cute. Like you,” Vers stared down at her for a moment, gaze burning, and then leaned forward, giving the spot a small peck. He pulled away, dropping his hold on her grip. “Now, if those are the biggest problems you have beyond your aim, you’ll do me proud with Ronan tomorrow. I’m heading back to go get more sleep before we see my boss, and if you’re done practicing, you should do the same. See you in the actual morning,” Yon-Rogg winked over his shoulder, turning and striding out of the room.

Vers watched him go, feeling the pink of her cheeks. She was frazzled, her hand shooting up to the spot his lips had touched. Was that real? Had that actually happened? She was half-tempted to call it a fake-memory, even though it wasn’t from one of her dreams. A smile popped up sporadically, stretching across her face outside her control, and the glow acted up. She had to get it out. She threw her arm out, aiming a blast without thinking too hard at the wall.

It burned the target on impact. She’d hit it perfectly, dead-center. “I felt it,” Vers said, grinning still. She looked at her hand, the flat palm. She’d hit it perfect. She could do it, whatever problems she had were minute, right? Besides the amnesia, everything was solvable with confidence.

Vers headed back to her room, a skip in her step. She wasn’t sure if she’d be too giddy to get back to sleep, but she should try. She didn’t want bags under her eyes, after all. Not that she expected to be close enough to Ronan for him to see beneath her eyes, but…

Tangent. She shook her head, shutting her door behind her, slipping off her pants and bra, and throwing herself on her bed. Two hours had passed, leaving her with enough time for a decent-sized nap. She shut her eyes, and the fluttery feeling of Yon-Rogg’s lips on her cheek occurred to her again. Maybe it was just because he was her Captain, and the closest friend she’d ever had (that she remembered, anyway, including the little snapshot dream-memories), but something about him was real special. She knew that much. She didn’t want to call it…something more. Like a crush, or something. Because she wouldn’t crush on her Captain, that was not a good idea. In fact, it was assuredly a bad idea.

Vers groaned. She was not spinning downhill. She reminded herself, again, that she had important things to focus on. Like, what was happening tomorrow morning. Bright and early. She double checked that her alarm was set and closed her eyes, rolling over on her back. Sleepy time, she thought.

It took a while for sleep to catch up.

Just when she was getting in rhythm, having slipped away into the darkness of sleep, a barely-tangible dream just now spinning itself around her, a blaring noise made her legs jerk out. Vers’ eyes snapped open and she looked down at her watch, scowling as she realized it was time to wake up, for real now. Great, just when she was actually getting sleep—

“No, bad thoughts. There is only room for positivity today, Vers!” She told herself. The brightness of her forced-happy-voice was seductive, and she popped out of bed, ready to leave her sleepy, no-energy self behind. She bent over and grabbed her toes, stretching her legs out, and then stretched her back and arms.

“To the shower with you, Vers!” She announced to herself. Talking to herself was a fun past-time, extra enjoyable if no one caught her doing it. Being caught talking to herself was always an awkward situation. She stumbled into her bathroom, bypassing the sink to enter the shower room. She stripped down and hopped in, turning the water as hot as she could stand it and enjoying the feeling of it running down her head and shoulders. She stretched her back beneath it, beaming as she recalled the memory-dream she’d had earlier, as well as Yon-Rogg’s little (assuredly platonic, right?) kiss. Today was lucky, she could just feel it. It was a big day, one of those life-changing ones, and all the signs pointed toward the change being a good one.

Today was going to be one of those clean-the-houses day. She had a task—impress Ronan—and she was going to fulfill that and then be pleased with the immaculate results. Right?

She finished the shower and toweled her hair until it wasn’t dripping. She hovered in front of the mirror, studying her pink-flesh self and then grinning. Confidence, she reminded herself. “You are gorgeous, Vers. It’s not so much that you lack the turquoise, it’s that you are special, that’s why you’re pink. Look at you!” Vers pulled a muscle pose, flexing her arms. Her guns had gotten way better of late, she noted.

Vers hurried to get dressed, pulling on her green armor. It stuck to her skin but let her breathe, and she always felt stronger in it. She stretched a bit, getting her body used to the feeling of the clothing, before heading back into the bathroom. She heat-dried her hair the rest of the way and applied cream to her face, smoothing the skin, and then did some makeup on her eyes. She’d always sucked at makeup with no one to teach her, but today she hadn’t done half-bad.

“Oh, today is most certainly going to be a good one!” She exclaimed, examining the pristine job she’d done on her eyes. Still, flurries of nerves rose up to attack her guts as she thought of meeting Ronan the Accuser, newly, The Supreme Accuser. He was a great man and she’d heard lots and lots of stories about him. For one thing, she’d heard he was massively powerful, a collector of an assortment of powerful weapons. And, if Yon-Rogg was to be believed, he was incredibly intelligent, earning him the coveted place of Supreme Accuser.

“A lot of hype about one guy,” Vers mumbled to himself as she headed out of her room. The hall was empty, but she could hear chatter from the mess room. She emerged to see her teammates gathered at the table, talking back and forth. Vers grinned and strode over, glancing over the faces of her team. As she approached, Minn-Erva, a beautiful black-haired Kree woman with skin of deep blue with tints of turquoise undertone on her high cheekbones and long, glamorous neck. As Vers approached, her smile faded and she rolled her dark lips together before averting her long-lashed eyes.

Vers stomach tied in a knot. She reminded herself that she was pleased with her guns today, that was a positive. “Good morning, team! Are we ready for this mission or what?” Vers asked, her voice cracking a little. She sounded way too amped up, she could see that much in the way Minn-Erva’s right eye twitched in stagnant annoyance. “Hey, Minn-Erva, I’m loving the hair thing you’ve got going on.” Vers said, gesturing to the left side of her own head. Minn-Erva had braided the hair on the left side of her head, tying it back.

“This is how I always wear it.” Minn-Erva said with dead, blank eyes that bore into Vers. “You should tie your hair back, Vers. Maybe then you would aim better than me.” Minn-Erva’s voice was sharp at the edges and Vers’ back prickled. Then, she was angry about Vers being touted as the so-called best member of the team despite her having better aim scores.

“On that topic, I just want to say there are places where everyone in this table could easily out-do me. Without these powers, I would just be, you know, eh?” Vers said, shrugging at the end and smiling. Minn-Erva returned the smile, but there was no happy intent inside it.

“You can say that again, Vers,” she said instead, taking a bite of the wedge on her plate. She smiled, predatory, and eyed Vers as she chewed. Vers sat down abruptly, grinning at Bron-Char who was on her right. He ran his tongue over his teeth, giving her a scowl she could have easily read into as disapproval. He was old, his hair silver and slicked-back, his beard white and puffy. He never really smiled, if one got down to it.

The Starforce military team was as small as it was elite: led by Yon-Rogg (Vers’ personal favorite), the team consisted of Vers (the rising star of the team, but only on account of the glow), Minn-Erva (Doctor and sharp-shooter), Bron-Char (oldie but goodie), Att-lass (Kree elite, daddy bought his way to a team audition but he’s still real good at what he does), and Korath the Pursuer (a highly terrifying type that Vers personally thought belonged as a baddie, not chasing baddies).

The most interesting member of the whole shebang, in Vers’ book at least, was definitely Korath the Pursuer, who lacked the Kree-blue, instead sporting a dark, dark brown. Vers felt if she could have darker brown skin like that, she would be less conscious of it. After all, no one could see him flush. Though, she doubted they could if he had light skin like hers. After all, Yon-Rogg hardly ever flushed pink.

A silence had lapsed over the table since Vers had sat down. She filled her plate from the center of the table, taking plenty of fruit and cooked breads, and pouring a large glass of gnelly-juice. She sucked a large gulp down, enjoying the invigorating taste of it. It was sweet, tarte at the edges, and guaranteed to wake a person right up. She batted her eyes, scanning the table.

“So how’s the star of the team feeling about seeing Ronan the Accuser today?” Bron-Char asked, a bitingly-sarcastic edge to his voice.

“It isn’t like he’s coming there specifically to see me,” Vers replied, returning a bit of the hostility before she could stop herself. “So, not particularly nervous.” She sipped another big gulp of gnelly; she wished they would all just get along, instead. Especially with Minn-Erva. They were the only two girls on the team, shouldn’t that mean they would become instant friends?

“Is it your first time seeing him?” Att-lass perked up, smiling as he asked. Vers nodded.

“In-person, yeah,” she said, a bit of enthusiasm bleeding in. She ignored the judgmental glare from Minn-Erva and focused on Att-lass, who looked equally excited.

“My father’s an Accuser so he knows Ronan. He’s come to my house before. He’s…his own thing. Terrifying. Wait’ll you meet him, you’ll be blown away.” Att-lass said, excited enough that he forgot to speak proper.

“He’s a Kree, just like you, and me, and everyone at this table—“ Minn-Erva began, pausing to smirk at Vers. “Oh, wait, not everyone. We still don’t know what, exactly, Vers is.”

Vers’ cheeks blazed as Bron-Char laughed. She scooped fresh berries onto her wedges, crunching them bitterly between her teeth. Yon-Rogg approached the table at that moment.

“We’re leaving in five. Be ready,” he growled. His gaze caught Vers’, and he gave her a half-nod. “That means everyone.”

“You got it, boss,” Minn-Erva said, sassy even to Yon-Rogg. Yon-Rogg pointed straight at her.

“Speaking of, you can feel free to ditch that attitude today, Minn-Erva. That, or risk being expelled from Starforce. Ronan takes these examinations very seriously.” Yon-Rogg said, scolding. Minn-Erva pouted, which quickly became a scowl because anything as demonstrative as a pout didn’t suit her.

“You got it, Captain,” she said, her tone a hiss. She puckered up her lips as if she tasted something bad, looking away from Yon-Rogg.

Yon-Rogg had already refocused, scanning the table. “Looks like we’re in good order all-around. Alright, finish up, Vers. Everyone else, let’s go!” He waved a hand and everyone got to their feet. Vers shoveled food into her mouth, wondering how she was the only one that ended up running late, and chased after them a moment later.

They headed to the spaceship, ready to load up and dispatch.


	2. Ronan: First Introductions

Vers yawned, loudly.

“Could you at least cover your mouth? Your breath reeks of gnelly,” Korath the Pursuer growled, his lips twitching downwards in a glower.

“Sorry, grouch.” Vers grumbled in turn. Being unable to sleep was a bad idea last night, after all. Curse her nerves. She watched out the window the spaceship as starry pitch-black space passed by. It all looked the same to an untrained eye, but Yon-Rogg had spent hours with her, helping her to memorize star maps. She knew them all by name, both proper and slang. At least she wouldn’t get lost in space, the most dangerous desert.

Desert…a wisp of her strange memory-dream occurred to her again, and she remembered the face of that woman. Words filled her mind, suddenly, words she was sure the woman had said: All you need to remember is that none of this would have happened if you’d only just…

“Ready to get on the ground level and meet Ronan! Armor up, now. Descending in five.” Yon-Rogg interrupted. Vers felt a prick of annoyance at her temple, the words of the woman blown out like smoke by Yon-Rogg’s jarring interruption. She bit her lower lip, now wasn’t the time for amnesia-rumination. She had to focus. She active the helmet, which slid up her cheekbones, so cool against her skin it almost felt slick. It captured her silky blonde hair, dragging it upward and letting some of it fluff out of the top. Yon-Rogg had pinched the soft dregs of blonde hair in his hand once, leaning on the wall just over her face. He’d said, now this just looks silly…come on, Vers, you’ve got to admit that this is proof enough, you need to cut your hair. 

When she argued the helmet was supposed to be designed that way, he leaned his head back and laughed, before swiveling it back to her to resume grinned down at her. All the while, he never let go of that strand of hair. You goof, he said, the helmet’s supposed to be able to hold it all back and close at the top. It’s to protect against high-impact blasts; you’re out of luck if a photon blast sends you flying backward and your head meets the top of a spiky rock.

He’d smiled in a way that crinkled his deep-golden eyes and told her, secretly, to keep growing her hair long. So, she had, and now it dangled well past her breasts. He hadn’t made another comment, so she couldn’t tell if he liked it or not—not that she should be worried about whether her superior approved of her haircut.

She refocused, as they were unloading from the spaceship. She half-tripped coming off of it, and was greeted with the view of a well-armored, unanimous army. At the front stood a very large, very tall man, wearing distinctive armor. Vers’ heart surged, “Oh my stars, it’s him,” she breathed.

“Are you talking to yourself?” Minn-Erva pinched her eyebrows together in a judgy look.

“Hush, don’t ruin this for me. That’s Ronan.” Vers said, eyes practically sparkling as she studied the man. He was every bit as impressive in the flesh as he was in legend.

Ronan wore the headdress Vers had seen him in on the news. His skin was bluer than any sky, glowing with vivacity. Black makeup was smudged around his eyes, running in thick trails down the strong planes of his cheeks, pooling over his broad chin. His armor was pitch-black as space, shined so it glowed in dotted places, like stars. The armor emphasized his broadly muscular form, focusing on the strength of his booted feet and large arms. In his hands he held the cosmi-rod, a powerful signature weapon of his. It was known for its concussive blast, which could shatter a skull.

Vers shivered, her instinct to check the curve of her skull. She preferred it intact. Nonetheless, she kept her hands at her sides; she could not embarrass Yon-Rogg in front of his boss. Yon-Rogg led the way, starting toward Ronan without a second’s hesitation. Ronan eyed him coldly, narrowing his eyes as Yon-Rogg’s team followed. He allowed it, though, until they were close enough to hear.

Then, he spoke. “Yon-Rogg, you and the one you mentioned may continue to approach. Only those two.” The last three words he spoke with a firm strength that made them sound impossible to disobey. Vers glanced at the others, tempted to hang back and let someone else continue the approach, but Yon-Rogg looked over his shoulder to her.

“Come on, Vers.” He said. Her stomach twisted with nerves, her faux-confidence from that morning’s mirror session all but dissolved, yet something in his eyes and the dusty-brown curls on his head kick-started her into motion. She walked toward him, coming to his side and then keeping even pace with him.

“Back straight, chin up, try and look as impressive as we both know you really are,” Yon-Rogg spoke low out of the side so only she could hear. Confidence swelled in her chest as she followed his directions, remembering the feeling she’d had after the pep talk she’d fed herself. Yeah, Vers, take that energy right back; she grinned at her inward pep talk, regaining its momentum.

They stopped at a friendly distance from Ronan. He examined Vers openly and without any indication that he was remotely impressed. She imagined a skinny dirty-pink Kree girl in the Starforce uniform probably would only manage to be semi-impressive, even with a cool mask. Though, the helmet’s effect was probably ruined by her goofy bits of hair sticking out at the top; she suddenly flushed and regretted keeping her hair so diddly dang long.

“Ronan the Accuser, I’m pleased to report to you,” Yon-Rogg smiled. Ronan gave him a nod, and the informal greeting was an indication of some familiarity between them. Ronan’s gaze slunk back to Vers, cold and impassive, his face seemingly carved of stone. “This is Vers, the girl I was telling you about.”

Ronan continued to stare her down. Vers met his gaze for a moment, before she wondered if that was disrespectful and averted her gaze to the ground. Ronan took a half-step forward, swinging the cosmi-rod down so it dangled beside his knee.

“Demonstrate the photon blast, Vers,” Ronan demanded. Vers looked back up, met his eyes, and flushed. She was grateful the mask hid her stupid, red-turning cheeks.

“Uh, yes, right away!” Vers said, snapping to. She turned her hands on a rock and, before she could even think, blasted a thick ray of twisted, colorful light into an adjacent rock. The rock blew into bits, the sound downright explosive, and Vers saw the hardened Kree soldiers flinch in surprise, a few closest taking steps back to avoid debris. “Oh, shit, sorry, I—“ realizing she’d just cussed in front of Ronan the Accuser, Vers clamped her mouth shut, accidentally biting down on her tongue. A tear beaded in her eye as the unpleasant pain coursed through her mouth, making her wince.

“Impressive,” Ronan said, in a tone that could easily be interpreted as sarcastic. “She could use some discipline, though, Yon-Rogg. Your soldiers aren’t typically so…volatile.” He spat the word out as if it were disgusting.

“Vers has a loud personality,” Yon-Rogg said, casually, as if that short statement completely excused how stupid Vers was acting. She wanted to slap her forehead, but she felt the self-deprecating act would put her even lower in Ronan’s estimation.

Ronan fixed her with a calculating gave. “She’s too emotional. But even the brunt force of a volcano can be fixed into a weapon, and we can aim a soldier. I want to know the extent of her powers.”

Vers noticed that he was talking about her instead of to her. She’d heard that it was common in Elite Kree culture to talk directly only to people you respected. By that logic, Ronan the Accuser clearly had no respect for her. He had when the discussion started, she realized, and her awkwardness had lost the respect.

How could she fail so miserably?

“We’ll meet you on Torfa, then,” Yon-Rogg answered something Ronan had said, and turned to walk away. Vers followed him, annoyed the conversation had carried on without her being privy to it. She’d been that lost in her dumb thoughts, huh?

This was a mess. Was her only value the glow? She looked at her hands; she could feel the glow under her skin, but she imagined the doctors were wrong in the end. She couldn’t be born with it; someone like her…she was too dinky and uncontrollable to have something like this. Minn-Erva was the type of person who would be born with these powers. She was rude, sure, but she was also controlled, careful, and purposeful.

Vers was vivacious, alive. Every movement as fast and lively as a beating heart.

Her head was spinning. They were out of Ronan’s earshot, and Yon-Rogg maintained the same pasted-on professionally friendly expression, and he didn’t look at Vers when he spoke.

“What in the seven vales of Hala was that, Vers?” He said, his tone revealing the extent of his aggravation only at the edges.

“I…got flustered?” Vers replied.

“You better not get flustered again. You only have so many chances to win Ronan’s respect. And don’t curse in front of him. That isn’t even like you Vers, you’ve never cursed in front of—“

“I don’t really curse!” Vers exclaimed. “It just came over me, like I couldn’t control my mouth!” It sounded even stupider aloud, she realized. She covered her mouth, as if she could cram the word—the sign of disrespect—back in.

Yon-Rogg started to scoff but turned it into a sigh. “Ronan is aware that he can be intimidating. You can be redeemed, if you perform well enough. But when we get back, we’re doing something to manage all of…this.” He gestured at Vers’ entire form. “This panic. This…effusion of emotion. It’s as inappropriate as it is inopportune.”

Without, he surged forward, purposely walking onto the ship fast enough to lose stride with her. A serious chastisement she’d never experienced from Yon-Rogg. It was the kind of slight that made her entire chest ache with pain; she’d disappointed him, seriously. Tears pricked her eyes but she frowned hard, determination rising up and replacing the hurt. She’d embarrassed Yon-Rogg, but hell would freeze before she’d disappoint him again.

She would impress Ronan, she decided. Not for herself, but for Yon-Rogg.

That was motivation enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing I wanted in the Captain Marvel movie...more Ronan! He's such an excellent villain. I wanted to see him and Carol interact.


	3. Torfa

Vers strode past her team, heading to a wall to stand on her own.

Ignoring them wasn’t difficult, as none of them spoke to her. That was a little unsettling; she felt disappointed and surprised, but told herself to ignore that unfriendliness. She had bigger fish to fry, and maybe they could tell it went poorly just by watching at a distance. Minn-Erva sure seemed smug enough, she probably deduced what had happened perfectly. Vers, with horror, remembered that most of her teammates could read lips, and probably knew what happened very, very well.

Then, she told herself, they were respectfully giving her space. She could deal with that.

She stared out the window the ride, ignoring the waves of disappointment Yon-Rogg sent toppling over her from where he sat, piloting the spacecraft. Silence could only last so long.

“So, Yon-Rogg, you think the team can prove itself to Ronan, regardless of her?” Bron-Char asked, jabbing a thumb in Vers’ direction. If the question sent prickles of irritation and self-loathing up Vers’ arms, it did something worse to Yon-Rogg, whose tense shoulders stiffened further, actually rising a bit toward his ears.

“I think if I had constructed a half-way decent team, you all would pull your jealous heads out of your asses, stop relishing in Vers’ embarrassment, and start giving her one hell of a pep talk because a good performance from her is the best chance we have of impressing Ronan.” Yon-Rogg snarled, eyes darting back and forth so he could address Bron-Char with a wild-eyed glare while steering the spacecraft. 

The team froze, every eye fixed on Yon-Rogg in astonishment; he almost never spoke to them this way. Even when reprimanding them, he was calm and collected. When he was met with silence, he recommenced his lecture. “Don’t you people understand that the most powerful member of the team represents the team? Ronan doesn’t care about how we perform as individuals; I’ve been saying it for months, you all serve as support for Vers. You cover Vers, you keep Vers going—and none of you have listened to a word of mine! There’s so much ego in this ship there’s no room for an actual team. When we get back to Hala, I’m deconstructing this worthless team.”

“No!” Minn-Erva outburst before she could stop herself.

Yon-Rogg ground his teeth. Regardless of whether he meant it, the idle threat threw the team into action. Suddenly, Att-lass was beside Vers, taking her by the arm and guiding her into a seat, where he sat beside her. Vers felt confused by the sudden shift in the mood of the craft, each member of the team—even Korath!—bunched around her and staring down at her in obvious concern.

“What you need to do is stay silent. Silence is power, it is better than trying to say the right words. If you give yourself silence, you give yourself strength,” Korath the Pursuer advised, crossing his bulky arms over his chest and nodding at his own thought.

“And if you’re silent you’ll keep from making an idiot of yourself in front of the Supreme Accuser,” Minn-Erva said, hands on her hips. “Come on, Vers. Look, to be frank, I don’t like you and it was fun to watch you bluster in front of Ronan, but you’re better than that. You took my role of star of the team—“

“Sorry,” Vers grumbled.

“—not by skill,” Minn-Erva continued, as if she’d never spoken. “But because of that power of yours. So just let that power speak for you. Detach your petty emotions from it, and just be cool.”

“Just be cool? Me? Minn-Erva, come on,” Vers said, wanting to joke, but her voice sounded weak and watery. Her teammates exchanged glances and Att-lass put his arm around her shoulders.

“Ignore them, Vers. You’re gonna kill it. This is your second chance, and you’re gonna do us proud. You can convince Yon-Rogg not to disband the team.”

Vers glanced up, looking around their expectant faces. She’d already decided she was going to do this for Yon-Rogg, but the idea of the team resting on her shoulders? “That’s a lot of responsibility…” she said.

“You’re tough. You can take it,” Minn-Erva said, her face cold and impassive. Vers couldn’t tell if she meant it or not, but it didn’t matter. Earlier, when she’d say Vers was better than her bluster in front of Ronan, Vers could tell she’d meant it. That was enough.

All of it was enough. “You guys really think I can turn this around?” Vers asked, a smile slipping into the corners of her mouth.

“We don’t think you can do it. We know you have to.” Korath said, his voice as firm as his face was stern. That settled it, then. Not just for Yon-Rogg.

For the team. Even if they kind of hated her, they deserved to keep their places. They depended on her to prove herself, or else Yon-Rogg gave them all up. That was unfair; she couldn’t let that happen. She cast a gaze over at the pilot’s seat, at Yon-Rogg tense shoulders and curly, sandy hair. She remembered her dream, a snippet of the words of the woman she’d called “mother.” She’d said: none of this would have happened if you’d only just…

It occurred to Vers that sentence had an eternity of possible endings, but, for now, she could frame it in this context. If she’d only just impress Ronan, she could fix it all.

They were close to Torfa now, she could recognize the mineral red-orange tint of space, the black reflecting out the radioactive colors of the planet. Her stomach twisted, Att-lass’s hold on her shoulders offering her some stability. She wrung her hands in her lap, feeling the glow circulating through her veins, pumping around her body alongside her blood. The doctors said the glow worked like her organs, there was tons and tons of it wrapped up in her body, so much if she pulled it all loose it would be an unimaginable amount, and sometimes she could feel it. It fluctuated with her emotions, and it moved and responded in ways she didn’t understand. The glow was always there and it was powerful in ways she couldn’t imagine, and, right now, it was the source of her worth.

She let out a shaky breath. She closed her eyes, cutting out the red of Torfa, trying to turn inwards. The glow…where did it come from? Why did she, of all people, have it?

“Getting ready to land. Strap in!” Yon-Rogg called, and it was too soon. Vers felt herself fall into a panic as she blindly followed the landing prep procedures, and, all too soon, they were there. On Torfa, their stealth ship landed tightly beside Ronan’s. She stepped out, squaring her shoulders and glancing at the tall, handsome Kree man. She couldn’t remember the details of what she’d said or how she’d acted, just that it had been an embarrassing, horrible blur. She averted her eyes from him, looking out over the rocks of Torfa.

Her eyes widened. This was a Skrull base; typically, the shapeshifters would be scattered all over, milling like ants. They traveled planet to planet, infesting it disguised as the people of it, before revealing themselves and overthrowing it. However, this planet, Torfa, was a known scrap planet. They must have been storing military equipment here.

“Yon-Rogg,” Ronan’s deep voice purred. Vers turned to watch the two men regard each other, Yon-Rogg’s expression attentive and neutral as if nothing wrong had happened. A mask, Vers understood. She wondered if Ronan wore one, too. She noticed him glance at her, realized at some point in her blind confusion she’d let her mask down and her long blonde hair hung loose. She put it back up, ignoring that bunches of blonde hung lazily out the top.

“We’re here. I assume you’re wanting to join forces, lead an attack?” Yon-Rogg asked, scoping the towers and considering a plan of attack. He glanced at Vers, gave a very half-mass smile, and looked away.

“No. I was thinking your team could show me what they’re capable of. The Skrulls have a weapon in there that I want destroyed; it produces Skrull Blasters, but it also acts as a very large one. Shot down a very important Kree ship three months ago.” He glowered at this, and Vers’ eyes widened. She remembered that particular story; Kree courting season had just closed, Ronan had selected a well-bred fiancé, and her craft had been destroyed by Skrulls. They were strong, and scattered, so it was more difficult to attack them. Finding this base had been important…

Vers understood suddenly that this was how she redeemed herself. She wondered if the glow she had within her would be enough, her hand racing on instinct to the inhibitor implant placed on the back of her neck. It kept some of her powers from coming through, and she wondered if what she had would be enough?

“Alright, team. Spread out, gear up. Vers, you’ll head in, we’ll cover you.” Yon-Rogg said, this time not bothering to smile. Despite this, he didn’t wear a frown, his forehead smooth, his eyes wide and open, as if to say, not only is this stupid team counting on you, I am.

Okay, so maybe she was reading into it a bit. But maybe she needed that. Turning toward the towers. She closed her eyes. She felt, at her core, the glow. It was the one thing that was consistent, that she had no problem accessing. When she opened her eyes, she felt the heat around her, she knew what to do.

The team scattered, Minn-Erva going to find a sniping point, the others finding places to come in indirectly. Vers went on her own, descending the hill and coming around. Out into the opening. Jumping from frying pan to fire…a weird metaphor that made little sense to her leapt into her head, and she wondered if it was a remnant from that strange past, that other life. Perhaps a man like Yon-Rogg had been a part of it, and—

No time for those thoughts! She put her hands up, playing coy and approaching the Skrull towers. She was spotted right away, and the Skrull manning the tower yelled down to her.

“State your name and purpose, before we blow you away!” He shouted. Eyes were on her, all around. But she wasn’t scared of the Skrull eyes; it was Ronan’s eyes that worried her. She looked up at the Skrull in the tower. “You wear Kree blue! You have five seconds before I fry your ass!”

She kept walking, same pace. The door was a while away now, but each moment she spent distracting the Skrull lookout was one she came closer, and her blast would grow stronger. “Five!” He called. She made three strides. “Four! Three! You know what, forget it, you’re dead, you—“ he cut off, his voice changing to a sharp cry, and he fell over, blood dripping from his head. Minn-Erva. 

She lifted both arms before her, blasting the glow at the doors. It was white-hot and a pale yellow, light looping in a straight line, not the usual whipping lightning bolt, straight into the door. It exploded on impact, and she raced ahead as her team emerged from where they’d hidden in the rocks, all but sniper Minn-Erva bolting in alongside her. Straight into the belly of the beast, she thought.

Of course, it was crawling with Skrulls. Immediately, blasts were happening all around her, but as soon as she’d knocked the door in she knew what to do. Keeping knocking doors in, of course. She aimed all over the place, blasting walls open (oops, thought that was a door), but more than that exploding door after door. Skrull Blasts bounced off her armor, the heat of it causing bruises to form beneath, at some points tearing the armor and exposing her skin.

Mostly, the Skrulls ran, flooding to the exits. They hadn’t expected this attack, and she could feel their anger at the ambush. Vers aimed to take a craft down, but Yon-Rogg pushed her arms down. He grinned in her face.

“Enough, Vers. Not why we came. Follow me,” they ran down halls, actually ignoring Skrull soldiers and letting them run past. Cowards, Vers thought, feeling cocky on account of her glow. Yon-Rogg paused to look at a map on the wall led them down an important-looking corridor, white and larger than the others, to a room that still had Skrulls buzzing in it.

Att-lass, Korath, and Bron-Char quickly attached the Skrulls that remained, who were attempting to lift a box-like weapon. It was gray-purple and funnel-like, shaped similarly to a Skrull Blaster, but much, much larger. They threw a Skrull scientist down, who shifted from his regular green, lined face into an imitation of Yon-Rogg.

“Stand down! Please, I’ve got a family!” He called. Yon-Rogg lifted his arms, the Magnitron Gauntlets flashing on his wrists, and threw the scientist up against the ceiling, trapping him.

“He might be useful. We keep him alive, take him to Ronan,” Yon-Rogg said, his voice edged with authority.

“Please,” the scientist whined, and Yon-Rogg pushed him harder into the wall so his pleading fizzled to whimpers.

“Not bad, Starforce. Vers, destroy the Skrull Blaster.” Yon-Rogg ordered. She lifted her fists, focusing on the metal machine and taking aim.

Light pulsed straight from her wrists, projecting at the weapon. As soon as the two met, a flash of heat flooded the room, accompanied by the screech of metal being wrenched apart and blinding light. Vers covered her face and looked back at the steaming pile of scrap metal she’d reduced the Skrull invention to. Something twinged in her chest; so hard to create, so easy to destroy. She narrowed her eyes, wondering why her mind would go there, now, when she should feel an element of success. Without her glow, they couldn’t have made it this far without more soldiers and fire power, without their own people getting hurt. That was a fact.

She flexed her hand, staring at her palm. The glow coursed around her fingers, skittering out of sight, back beneath her skin through her powers, like a bug scurrying out the light. Then she was jostled out of her own world, Att-lass and others’ arms around her, laughing and cheering, and the exhilaration hit her: she’d done it! She’d really done it!

Vers looked up at Yon-Rogg, beaming, and found him returning the expression. “Good work, Vers,” he said. His smile crinkled his eyes, and within his eyes she saw pride. He wouldn’t disband the team, those were just angry words.

Everything was right, and she’d made it that way. But only because of the glow.


	4. Dinner on Kree-Lar

Ronan did not meet them after the raid.

Instead, he invited them to a large, lavish planet of his known as Kree-Lar. It was beautiful, swirling blue, purple, and white from the spacecraft. They’d been laughing and celebrating, trading stories, Minn-Erva describing how it had been from the outside. Apparently, Ronan’s men had been shooting down some of the Skrull escape pods. Nonetheless, Talos the Untamed had escaped without being spotted, which apparently had annoyed Ronan greatly. Regardless, they partied anyway, ignoring the prisoner they had strapped in their spacecraft.

They landed, all jolly and ready to party. Minn-Erva had even thrown her arms over Vers’ shoulders, telling her, “See? I told you, you had it in you. Freaking star of the team, this girl. Better than it being a guy, I suppose…at first, I thought it would be easier that way, but look at your little face,” she gripped Vers’ chin, grinning. “Yeah, you wouldn’t hurt anybody, would you?”

“Actually, I just finished hurting a lot of people.” Vers returned, grinning back.

“Not, people, Skrulls,” Minn-Erva returned, winking, and breaking her hold on Vers. She gave her a quick, sharp smack on the butt and headed off, taking another glug from the water bottle she kept with her. Vers wondered if the brown liquid within wasn’t nectar after all. She giggled at that, before realizing that a lot of her teammates were taking swigs from bottles kept at their hips. Was bringing alcohol on missions a thing? She frowned in confusion, and was about to ask Bron-Char, when Yon-Rogg snuck up behind her, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her aside.

“Hey, so the others are taking the prisoner in and going to the feast. That’s why they’re all…feeling festive,” Yon-Rogg winked. “But, you and I, we’ve got bigger fish to fry. A private audience with Ronan.”

Vers cheeks flushed. Without the mask hiding them, she was aware Yon-Rogg could detect her embarrassment. “A private audience?” She repeated. Her mind darted to old Kree traditions, which involved dark bedrooms and honeyed aphrodisiacs. A different, more intimate type of celebration.

Yon-Rogg patted her shoulders, spinning her around. They were in a small enclosure along the hallway now, close together, and he was grinning down at her. “That’s right. Saved the day, Vers. Even with your teammates…well, doing what they do. Treating you like trash,” he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Vers, I should have stopped them all sooner.”

Vers flushed further. “They’re good to me—“

Yon-Rogg scoffed. “They barely have respect for me. They treat you as a newbie, like someone they can bully. I only said what I said to…to try to finally fix that. I wasn’t angry with your blunder.”

Vers bit her lip. “Not even a little?”

He laughed. “Okay, a little. But all of that’s forgotten. Now, I’m only proud. Without you, we would have failed. And that wasn’t even the full extent of your power.” His hand went to her cheek suddenly, thumb smoothing her upper cheekbone, just beneath her eye. Pushing her hair back, coming steadily closer. “All you have to do now is speak to Ronan. Don’t acknowledge the first time you met him, just move past it. Be professional, Vers. Get through this, and we can go to the festivities.” His hand began to move from her face, as if that small comfort had been enough, and her own hand quickly moved to his, holding it against her cheek.

“Will you celebrate with me afterwards? I owe my success to you, really,” Vers said, hearing the note of desperation in her voice. Her stomach twisted in embarrassment; she didn’t want to sound that way in front of Yon-Rogg! She wondered if, in that blank slate of memory she’d forgotten, she’d felt this way about someone else. In whatever past life she’d had. “I…owe a lot to you.” She stared up at him, studying the softness in his eyes. Softness toward her. It felt like a hint of something reciprocated, but it wasn’t enough to tell. And, with him being her team leader, she couldn’t risk it all on a chance.

“Later, Vers. We’ll discuss this further later,” there was a slight strain to his voice. “For now, we have to speak to Ronan.” He broke away from her, heading down the hall. She lingered for a moment before following him.

They trailed down the hallway, reaching stairs. Kree guards lined either side, dressed regally. Below, the marble floors pulsed beneath their feet at the strength of the music from the party. Vers pictured everyone dancing, drinking, having fun. She stared at Yon-Rogg’s head, realizing sullenly she’d rather be there, but only if he came with her.

As surely as the glow was within her, so was this feeling. This…draw towards Yon-Rogg. She bit her lip; she didn’t need to be certain about his feelings, she was already certain about her won. She’d kind of told him already, but she would tell him more explicitly later. She promised herself that.

They reached two grand doors. The guards addressed Yon-Rogg, said his name, bowed, and pulled the blue doors open. Within was a room as spacious as a ballroom, with balconies on the far side, a large resting area, a gigantic bed suited for Ronan’s tall frame. His favorite weapon, the cosmi-rod, in all its gigantic blunt strength was propped idly against the wall. 

Ronan sat in a chair at a fancy table, decorated with delicious-smelling food, still wearing his armor and his stern expression. Yon-Rogg approached. “Sit,” he gestured to his right, a place of honor. Yon-Rogg sat there, and Vers made to follow him. “No, here,” he gestured to his immediate left. She obeyed, realizing dully it was the place not of honor but family. She certainly wasn’t his family, so having her sit there just felt like he didn’t want to seat her farther down. She sat, and almost immediately servers appeared, dividing up the food and supplying it evenly to the people at the table.

They exchanged glances, waiting until Ronan took his first bite. He cut evenly and slowly, as if strategizing every move, and took a bite. They followed his lead, digging in.

“The team was efficient, Yon-Rogg,” Ronan said, his voice flat and broad, resembling his chest. Vers shot Yon-Rogg a cocky eyebrow wiggle, and he fought a smile. “Kree procedures were followed perfectly. The soldiers kept formation even under pressure, until the Skrulls cracked and scattered. Minn-Erva remains a fantastic sniper. Does she still carry that foul demeanor?”

Yon-Rogg let out a smooth chuckle. “Of course, it’s a defining trait. But her marksmanship redeems her.”

Ronan let out a grunt-like noise that managed to simultaneously chide and dismiss. “She’s on your team, not mine; I believe attitude makes the soldier.” He eyed Vers out of his peripherals at this, and she looked quickly down at her plate. Just don’t mention what happened before the fight, please, Vers pleaded him desperately in her mind.   
“Speaking of attitude, Vers, yours suffered a shift.” He was addressing her directly, that was a good sign, she thought.

“Oh, yeah,” Vers said, nervously remembering the flustered feeling of earlier. Come on, darn it, silence is better but when addressed directly she had no choice but to respond! “I’m sorry, I’ve never met someone of your status. I was…nervous.”

“You admit that freely?” Ronan said, rebuke at the edge of his tone. Her embarrassment mounted.

“There’s no point in lying to you. It was clear that I was…scattered.” She tucked blonde hair behind her ear, glancing at Yon-Rogg for approval. He was watching Ronan, intent and focused. 

“Clear, indeed.” Ronan took a bite, enjoying chewing it for a long time, before slurping some mead. Finally, he deigned to reply, ending Vers’ agony as she awaited a response. “I could find use for you. As long as your…initial embarrassment has worn off.”

“It has!” Vers responded, eagerly. He turned the full blunt weight of his heavy gaze on her, and she shrunk back a bit. “I mean, I’m still not used to you, but it’s easier when I’m using the glow—I mean, my powers.” Shoot.

“The glow?” Ronan repeated, his brow dented in confusion.

“Her pet name for her abilities,” Yon-Rogg said in casual explanation. Curse his calm outward demeanor, Vers only wished she could be so put together.

“Yeah, because it…glows.” Vers explained, feeling stupid.

“Hm,” Ronan murmured, taking another swig. He eddied his drink. “The glow. Suiting, I suppose. I don’t mind quirks and peculiarities, they come in the mind of those with talent.”

“Was that…a compliment?” Vers asked, astonished and unable to stop her thoughts from moving straight from brain to mouth.

“No,” Ronan answered, instantly. “More of an observation, and an assertion: I don’t find you wholly intolerable.”

“Just partially?” Vers pushed. Yon-Rogg shot her a wide-eyed look of warning, communicating nonverbally that it was time to relent. Nonetheless, he’d sent her the warning signal too late; Ronan was visibly annoyed.

“Do not push me further, pink-skin. I do not know how Yon-Rogg operates, but I don’t hand out accolades,” he fixed her in the path of a cold glare that cut like a laser straight to the middle of her, prying her open to her heart. Then, he paired a horrible, haunting smile with those cutting eyes. “Enjoy tonight. Lavish in the riches of Kree, an Empire that has adopted you regardless of your poor manner and the strange color of your flesh. Tomorrow, be wary though, Vers, as I have many a use for you.”

“Ah, I will be, um, wary, sir!” Vers said, her face having gone redder than Torfa in fear. She felt like her insides were sweating and she couldn’t eat another bite if the Kree Empire depended on it. She sat rigidly trapped in place, threatened. Ronan smirked.

“That was a dismissal, Vers. Out of my sight.” She nearly knocked her chair to the ground standing up. She gave an awkward bow before fast-walking to the door, stiffly reaching for its handles. The guard reached for it at the same time, and she awkwardly pulled back before he could swat her away.

“Um, thanks,” she said, fixing him with an uncomfortable, sweaty smile. He kinda cringed in response, and she hurried through the door before she could give Ronan anymore reason to think she was pathetic. She rushed down the steps, her eyes feeling hot, and her mind spinning. 

One fact remained clear: she could not work with that man! Like, ever! No, she definitely needed Yon-Rogg’s affirmations and coddling banter, not the cold, cutting gaze and the judgment. Man, the judgment; she shuddered, the glow pulsing within her with the need to punch something. Responding, once more, to her volatile emotions. She made her way down the hall, heading to a space between two guards so she wasn’t awkwardly right next to one, and thumping her head on the wall.

How quickly a good day turns sour, she thought. Ronan definitely despised her. How could she just go down to the party like nothing happened? She could hear the festivities, and she didn’t want to make them glum. She paced the hall a bit.

“Are you okay, miss?” One of the guards asked, making her jump. She tucked her hair back, turning to look at him.

“Oh, thank you for asking! Yeah, definitely not okay, but trying to just calm down! You know, defuse and all that.”

“Ma’am, don’t bombs defuse?” The guard asked, tilting his head. He seemed so young to her. She let out a trilling laugh.

“You are right, and, on that note, going to the party,” she spun on her foot, fast-walking down the hall. How did she do that? Just jump from humiliating herself in front of Ronan to implying she was a ticking time bomb in front of his guards? Wow, she really could self-destruct like no other. 

She passed through a hallway, moving behind columns to watch the party. She saw Minn-Erva dancing with some girl and guy she didn’t know, guzzling from a goblet as her dancing partners laughed. Bron-Char sat with a bunch of guys of similar age, all chattering, eating, drinking. Att-lass mingled in a corner at standing tables, talking to other elites, looking perfectly in-place.

Korath the Pursuer was the only member of the team sitting alone, before the stage where the musicians played. Vers crept up behind him, slipping into a seat to his left.

“Nice work today,” Vers said, attempting a smile. Her eyes felt raw and red.

“Thank you,” Korath replied. “I’m surprised you saw any of my work. Your hands were full; you led the charge.”

She flushed. “Thank you, Korath.” She answered him warmly, smiling.

“Don’t thank me. It’s a simple statement of fact.” Korath replied. “Now, quiet. I wish to hear this music.” He shut his eyes, seeming to listen intently. Vers frowned; he was alone by choice, then? And what was she? Alone by sheer awkwardness? She nibbled at the inside of her cheek in building anger at herself. Why couldn’t she just fit in?

Vers got to her feet, walking closely to the feast table. Her stomach still felt tight, like she couldn’t eat, but she poured herself a goblet of mead. Bron-Char called to her, “Good work, Vers!” He said. His buddies jostled him, “You know her, Bron? She’s one good-looking girl.” “Heard she impressed Ronan, right?” Another commented. Vers’ ears felt as if they were on fire.

“Come on, join us, Vers,” Bron-Char said, patting his leg. Vers’ eyes widened; sexuality was as free as wind in Kree culture, but all the same, it felt so…

“Bron-Char, you hardly ever talk to me,” Vers answered. “And now you want me to join you and your friends?” His friends looked at him in shock.

“I talk to you plenty!” Bron-Char protested. Vers let out a short dry laugh. All of it—the humiliation, the disappointment, the self-loathing—rose up and aimed itself at Bron-Char.

“Yeah, to pick at me. I’m not sitting on your lap to impress your friends, just so you can return to mocking me with Minn-Erva when we’re back on Hala.” Vers snapped, feeling way too sober. She turned and strode away, ignoring his call to come back (followed up quickly by an insult: fine, you bitch!) and sucking down her alcohol instead. Her eyes felt wet and the glow was pulsing, begging to burst free from her. It was almost painfully hot and her cheeks were dark, dark red when she looked at her reflection in her goblet.

An arm latched around her shoulder, alcohol splashing out onto her uniform. “How’s the lady of honor?” Minn-Erva purred in her ear. “Enjoying the party after your private—“ she narrowed her eyes, wiggling her eyebrows, “—audience with Ronan?”

“I-It wasn’t like that,” Vers returned. Minn-Erva laughed drunkenly, careening forward as peals of laughter sprung from her. 

“Oh, I bet! Believe me, if I was in your shoes, I would still be up there. Planets and stars, is there a hotter man alive?” She implored. It was too much; Vers covered up her face with one hand, shoving her goblet on a table and rushing off toward the back of the room. “Vers, where are you going?” Minn-Erva called after her.

Tears were falling free. Why was she reacting so strongly? She couldn’t tell, but she just wanted someone to wrap their arms around her and hug her. She regretted not going to Att-lass; he was willing to put his arms around her shoulder, maybe he would have hugged her. She rushed down the private halls, rows and rows of guest rooms, and found a little portion of the wall in which she could slump down and cry. 

A candle was lit and she pushed the brass stick far away from her, curling up so her face pressed in her knees. She needed to let the glow out; it was brimming within her, up to her ears, crackling between her fingers. She funneled it out slowly, letting it dance like a thin dragon between her fingers, crackling orange. The tears stopped and she was captivated by the glow as it grew larger and larger, eking out of her. The implant on the back of her neck stung as she exercised complete control over the glow, making it bend and take shape.

It wasn’t just some gigantic mass of power. Whatever it was, it could be…kind of beautiful. She smiled a small, trembly smile, and another tear leaked down her face. 

“Vers?” A voice called. She looked up, meeting eyes with Yon-Rogg, who began walking briskly toward her as soon as he saw her. “What are you doing? What’s wrong?” She got to her feet, and he took hold of her wrists, seeming to examine her for injuries through there was nothing beyond what the Skrulls had battered her with earlier. She let out a soft, whining cry noise, and Yon-Rogg let out a tsk before sweeping her up and pulling her to his chest.

“Was it Ronan?” He asked, worry in his voice. She pushed her cheek against his cool armor, and smiled. She felt relieved all at once, and she wrapped her arms around him too. She nodded softly.

“That, and…well, the team.” She admitted. Yon-Rogg sighed.

“I know. Hang in there, Vers. You’re stronger than they know. You showed them that today. It should change—“

“I yelled at Bron-Char,” She admitted, suddenly. “He—He hasn’t talked to me! He never talks to me except to be snide, and then, all of a sudden, he wants me to sit on his lap?”

“Gross,” Yon-Rogg said, evenly.

“I know, right! He-he…” she paused, and the fact that Yon-Rogg had said gross caught up with her insecurity, overwhelmed it, and made her giggle. “I don’t know. I just…I didn’t expect Ronan to be like that.”

Yon-Rogg leaned down, closer to the top of her head. He had an air of importance, and she knew what he said would be meaningful. Still, he paused before speaking. “You mean like a prick?”

Vers gasped, springing backward. They remained in each other’s arms, though now she looked up into his face. He laughed at her expression, her mouth wide open as if in a scream of surprise. “Yon-Rogg!” She said, scolding.

“What? I mean, come on. He is just that. He’s a total—“

“Don’t say it!” Vers exclaimed, moving to lift her hands and cover his mouth, but he kept her arms pinned away from his face by holding onto her.

“It’s true! You know he’s a—“

She stopped him from finishing that sentence with a kiss. It caught him by surprise, and for a moment his lips were still and Vers was overwhelmed by the fact that she had no memory of kissing, she had no idea what to do besides push her face into his, but then he was kissing her back and he seemed to really no what he was doing.

His voice was softer, silkier when he spoke. “Vers, we shouldn’t be seen…”

“We can go to the ship?” She offered. “Just to talk, of course.”

He let out a soft laugh, as if in disbelief. “We have guest rooms here, Vers. We’re staying the night, so we can…fully enjoy the festivities.”

Vers smiled, she couldn’t contain it any longer. “You think we’ll be missed if we entire early?” She asked.

“Not too badly. Ronan joined the festival, and he might have wanted to see you—“

“Why? He hates me!” Vers asked.

“Not so much as you might think. But, I imagine he won’t mind your absence for one night, as long as you report in the morning…” he trailed off, tilting his head as if in a shrug. 

“Let’s go, then? I need a quiet night,” Vers said, letting Yon-Rogg begin to guide her. 

“Oh, I don’t know if it’ll be quiet,” Yon-Rogg replied, teasing. His hand wandered lower, and she laughed, following him into his room.

He double-checked the door was shut behind them.


	5. Ronan's Mission

Vers woke up curled against Yon-Rogg.

She was comfortably warm, and, upon opening her eyes, she had a picture of the room. 

The fireplace by which she and Yon-Rogg had snuggled, sharing drinks and stories. The far side of the room, the bathroom where she’d washed her alcohol-reeking mouth out with sink water before coming back into this room. And, finally the bed where they laid, tangled together, in the spot where their night had come to a close. She rolled a bit, glancing over and realizing the suns were rising still. 

Vers looked at Yon-Rogg. Asleep, he seemed so vulnerable and she traced a hand slowly over his chest. She wondered if this had been her first time…she shook her head, imagining not. Certainly not if Yon-Rogg was right about her potentially having belonged to a slave ring. 

She sat up, stretching her back and yawning. Last night had mainly sucked, but the ending had been fantastic. She smiled at that and shifted, getting out of bed. She thought about putting her dirty, torn-up Kree armor back on, but instead walking to the bathroom to wash up and get ready.

When she came back, Yon-Rogg was sitting up, smiling at her.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he said. The emotion in his eyes made her heart crinkle up.

“You look happy,” she said, drawn over to him. She sat beside him on the bed and he put his hand in her blonde hair.

“I am happy,” he replied. “Ecstatic, even. I hope you feel the same.”

“I do,” she said. He was leaning closer, so she crossed the distance and kissed him softly on the lips. The glow tremored in her stomach, but it was a happy, soothing warmth, not the kind of angry heat that felt like it needed to break free. Accompanying this emotion, the glow was satisfied just sitting in her stomach.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Yon-Rogg said when they broke the kiss. “You’re a special girl, Vers.”

“Yeah? You’re a special guy,” Vers smirked. “Also, ironic that the two pink-skin Kree fall for each other. What are the odds? Almost everyone around here is blue!”

Yon-Rogg snorted. “Higher than you might think. Now, come on. We need to sneak you back to your room. Your fresh change of armor is there.”

Sneaking Vers back was easier than she suspected. It was early morning, and they were pretty much the only two out and about. Everyone else was curled up with hangovers, sleeping last night’s antics off. When they had successfully snuck into her room, Vers couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“So, do you think Ronan will be able to make our meeting this morning? Because I’m kind of doubting it,” she said, cocking an eyebrow. Yon-Rogg returned her smirk.

“Ronan doesn’t get hangovers, supposedly. So I imagine he’ll be there.” Vers groaned at that, and Yon-Rogg laughed. “Come on, get dressed.”

“While you watch?” Vers returned, playfully.

“Yes. I’ll watch the door, look out for intruders,” Yon-Rogg said, crossing his arms. His smile remained fixed in place. “Seriously, though. You need to know that Ronan wants to see you, one-on-one. And he didn’t tell me much when it was just the two of us last night, except that he had some kind of mission for you.”

“A mission?” Vers asked, straightening the pants half of her uniform. She stretched her legs and arms happily, before hunting around for a brush. Her hair had never been so tangled.

“Yeah. And he told me he wants to train you, hard. He wants you in full control at maximum power.”

“He wants to get rid of the implant?” Vers asked in shock, eyebrows traveling high on her forehead. Yon-Rogg shook his head.

“No, he wants the implant there so he can turn the glow off if he ever needs to—“

“You called it the glow!” Vers exclaimed, pleased. “You never call it the glow.”

Yon-Rogg smiled, as if despite himself. “Yeah, you’re growing on me, yadda yadda, all the niceties. Seriously, though, listen to me. Ronan is going to push you, hard. You can’t get hurt feelings every time he says something a little mean.”

A little curl of hurt appeared in Vers’ stomach. “I…I don’t get hurt feelings that easy…” she argued.

Yon-Rogg sighed. “Vers, come on. You have to change how you interact with Ronan. You know it went poorly yesterday.”

Vers’ cheeks flushed. She wanted to argue, but decided against it. He was still her superior. “I mean, yeah, it went to crap. But he was being rude.”

“Ronan is rude. He’s the Supreme Accuser. He has the right to be!” Yon-Rogg returned.

“I guess so,” Vers said, shoulders slumping a bit.

Yon-Rogg sighed. “Make sure to grab a hair tie. That uniform might not have a fancy helmet for you.”

“Oops! Thanks for the reminder!” Vers said, dashing back into the bathroom.

Minutes later, they headed down the hallway. Vers’ hair was tied back in a thick braid, bouncing between her shoulder blades. She kept grinning at Yon-Rogg every time she caught his eye, which made him do cute things like get pink chinks and shake his head.

Before they entered Ronan’s room, he took hold of her arm and gently steered her over to the wall. He whispered to her, “Listen, Vers. Don’t let on about…us. Not yet, okay. I—“

“Don’t worry, it’s our little secret,” Vers said, giving him a wink.

Yon-Rogg smiled. “I—that’s not the only thing, Vers. If the mission takes a while, I want you to know…” he glanced away. “Well, you’re good. At what you do, and just in general. And you’re the best thing that’s happened to me for a while.”

The thrill filled her entire chest. Vers beamed a crooked, full-toothed smile. “Wow, flattery will get you everywhere, Yon-Rogg. No need to get all sentimental on me, I’m sure I’ll see you tonight.”

“I hope so,” Yon-Rogg returned, and she couldn’t help it. She gave him a tight hug, just like she used to do, and broke it. She walked quickly to the door, knowing if she paused she would want him to come with her. She glanced over her shoulder as the door opened, and found a sad smile on Yon-Rogg’s face. He lifted one hand in a short wave.

“You may enter, ma’am,” the guard said, and Vers strode ahead. The doors shut noisily behind her, and she looked around the room. 

Ronan sat in the same place as before, at the table. He was examining a strange orb fixed on the table before him. He didn’t look up when she walked in, simply lifting one hand and gesturing with two fingers for her to come closer. She obeyed, and when he pointed at the chair to his left she sat there though she thought it was rude. 

When it was just the two of them, couldn’t he have the decency to just give her the place of honor? She would have huffed if she didn’t know he had super-hearing, and wouldn’t appreciate a display of attitude. Heck, he didn’t appreciate her without the display of attitude.

“Yon-Rogg has informed you that I have a mission?” He asked, finally deigning to lift his eyes and scowl directly at her instead of at the orb.

Vers nodded.

“Good,” Ronan said, leaning back and taking his fingers off the edge of the black orb. “There’s a slave ring nearby. I’ll have the coordinates given to you. Don’t be mistaken, Vers, this is a test. Succeed, and you will be rewarded beyond your imagination.”

That idea excited her, but she forced down her reply. Korath was right, silence was better. Ronan seemed pleased that she only smiled, and didn’t respond, and gestured at the orb on the table.

“I have seen the Supreme Intelligence. They have elected to give me control of your implant. For the course of this mission, I intend to grant you more of your power.”

“Wait, I won’t have control—“ Vers stopped mid sentence, as Ronan had already reached into the orb and pushed the level up further. Vers felt her implant grow hot, and, suddenly, more glow poured into her body. She heard herself cry out, an animal-like yelp of surprise, and before she knew it she was suddenly standing. 

Her feet felt tingly and strange. She looked down and realized she was levitating off the ground. She looked to her hands, the palms of which snaked with orange beams of glow.

“Take your seat again.” Ronan ordered without looking at her. Vers frowned, trying to think how to lower herself to the ground. She grabbed onto the table and forced her feet down, waiting for a second. 

The glow gradually settled, allowing her to breathe easy and stand still. She felt certain that the next time she flew, she would be in control of it. She opened her eyes and met Ronan’s strict gaze, offering him a sheepish smile before snatching her chair, placing it back upright, and resuming her seat. 

“Yon-Rogg was right. You don’t have good control; I think it’s more than your emotions, the power is just…too much. Too much for you in its entirety.” Ronan said. He seemed excited by the prospect or, adversely, as excited as one can be about something while sitting still and maintaining a frown.

“I should train before the mission, then,” Vers answered him.

“No!” Ronan raised his voice, making Vers flinch. He settled himself, the hand that had smacked the table settling. He shook his head, his expression returning to neutrality. “No, training is worthless. Your power is different than anything else; you have to learn to use it in action.”

“But…that’s so dangerous!” Vers replied. He gave her a glare out of the corner of his eye that could have meant many things, but mostly told her I don’t care about your safety, soldier. “I could fail the mission and be taken captive!”

“You won’t learn otherwise. Take her to dispatch,” Ronan said, turning and speaking to a guard she hadn’t seen, who emerged from the shadows. 

Flustered, Vers allowed them to lead her off, trying not to overthink this all the while. She listened to their orders: slave ring, destroy it, rescue taken Kree subjects, etc etc. They took her close to the slave ring’s ship, their own ship hidden with invisble tech, and the guard that accompanied her spoke.

“Ronan told us you could fly the rest of the way over,” she spoke as though it were a question.

Vers shook her head. “I didn’t have that ability before…I don’t know if I could make it.” She stared out at the slave ring’s ship. Everything was moving so quickly, but her mind was getting back into order. 

Yon-Rogg had told her she likely came from a slave ring…this could be the place from which she came. That thought made her head feel tacked on backwards. It wasn’t standard procedure for Kree to mess with slave rings—there was an uneasy treaty between the two, though Kree found them disgusting—so she assumed that she was being sent to take care of this on the downlow.

That ship. Spread out, large, far bigger than the incognito ship she stood within. What would she find in that ship? She pictured Yon-Rogg, the night they’d shared, and felt more confident.

“You don’t think you can do it?” The guard asked. Vers frowned.

“I could take an escape pod over—“

“There are no escape pods on this ship. Um, actually, I have orders for if you refuse to go.” The guard said this hesitantly, and Vers whirled around.

“Don’t take me back, I don’t want—“ she stopped midsentence, surprised because the guard had rammed her hands into her chest, shoving her backwards. The guard opened the airlock, and Vers was sucked out into space. Panic filled her gut as she saw the lock get shut, the ship moving backwards and already invisible, and realized there was no way for her find her way back. Luckily, the Kree armor’s space provisions had activated, so she could breathe; but she wasn’t invisible.

“Crap, oh no…glow, don’t fail me now,” Vers mumbled to herself. She flipped herself over, getting balance of her limbs as she adjusted to the zero gravity. Just floating in place was weird, but she was fine. The glow coursed loudly in her, its amped up presence felt more than ever, and she was able to use it to stabilize herself some. When she focused, she began to move forward. It was difficult to describe in the same way moving your arm makes less sense in words, but she was able to figure out how to fly.

“Ronan, you jerk, telling the guard to just throw me out! I could have died,” Vers ranted to herself. It felt good to talk to herself, one-on-one, even if it wasn’t a mirror session. She flew closer to the ship, examining the outside. It wasn’t a battleship by any means, and seemed decked out for hiding and living in. Festivities as well, Vers imagined. She balled her hand in a fist, aiming it at the two doors. Should she blast them open?

To her surprise, they opened on their own. A man stood within the ship, hands folded behind his back like a butler.

“The passcode, madam?” The man asked, addressing her as if it were commonplace for someone to fly up to the ship without a ship of their own.

“Um, get out of the way or I’ll blast you!” Vers returned. The man frowned, but the moment Vers flew fast toward him he leapt backward, rushing into the hall.

“An invasion! Run!” The man screamed. People leapt into the motion. Vers followed the chaos, flying through the green halls into a wide room that seemed like a greenhouse. There was a fountain in the center, the ceiling was fixed to let sunlight filter in, and people of all sorts milled about amongst the plants, laying on benches or on each other. Vers looked about as people scattered, some of them trained to the spot. She blasted the chains on those people, and they ran too.

“If you’re a slave, don’t run! Come to me!” Vers shouted, but it was pointless to do so; they scattered just like the clientele did, only regarding her over their shoulder with skittish eyes. She felt a wave of frustration, trying to pick at least one slave to simply grab and rescue, when a hot blast hit her back. Vers was knocked from the spot where she levitated and, spinning around, saw a man with a blaster. There were more of them.

Angry, Vers flew up again and shot at them from above. The blasts came from her hands, meeting the blasts of their space guns midway, sometimes overpowering them and flying back on the men.

“What is she?” One of the slave traders cried. A few of them broke formation, running for escape pods. Vers grinned; she was succeeding in this fight, at least. Just not rescuing the…prisoners. She rained down more hot blasts on the men until they had all ran or fallen, before flying down, grabbing one by the collar of his filthy clothes and lifting him in the air.

“Where are they taking the slaves?” Vers demanded.

“I—I don’t know. Probably an escape pod!”

“Where are the escape pods?” Vers asked. The glow was raging within her, she could feel it burning her eyes. Behind the man, in the reflection of a glittering window pane, she saw herself. Fire seemed to burn around her, her eyes shone white with light. She looked like a demon, which freaked her out for a moment before she remembered that there were people depending on her.

“I’ll lead you to them, please just don’t—“

“Hurt you? I won’t, if you keep to your word.” She threw him down. He ran down the hallway, glancing over his shoulder and finding her there each time. He led her to a place where people were congregating outside escape pods; upon seeing her, the powerful ones in charge of the slaving operation rushed ahead, abandoning the crying slaves against the hallway to jump into escape pods.

“Hey! Don’t you leave now!” Vers shouted, feeling as if this was all very out of her control. Ronan gave her a mission for a whole team of soldiers, not just…well, actually, with her powers she could handle the firepower end of things, it was just her wits that were slow. That made her feel good, not.

Her shouts had encouraged the slavers to move faster. She lifted her hands, aiming double blasts at them when she heard a crack in the air. She turned around just as a large blast of light hit her, knocking her backwards. She smashed into a few crying slaves, who scattered and rushed away so she lay, dazed, on the floor. She looked up to see a woman grinning an ear-to-ear smile that only contained four teeth, holding some kind of gigantic weapon.

“Hold still, girly. This oughtta do ya,” the woman spoke, grinning. She shot the weapon again, and this time the Vers lifted her hand to use the glow and blast away whatever the heck was being shot at her. However, this time whatever she shot was different, and the blast absorbed the glow Vers had aimed at it, coming forward and wrapping around her wrists as if it were rope.

Vers gasped. Whatever had been shot at her pressed into her wrists, sucking at her like leeches, and she felt her glow sinking into it, slipping away out of her body.

“Galacta-killer. Pretty wicked, right? Made for taking out the charged-up freaks like you,” The woman asked, grinning and showing off her four teeth again. One of them was crooked. Vers strained, subconsciously aware that the slavers were preparing to escape. At least they were leaving the slaves themselves behind. The strange rope-like energy the woman had blasted at her twisted around her, lurking up her arms. Blind panic began to fill her, she wouldn’t make it she realized, and her powers flared.

There was an explosive burst of light shooting out of her body. Vers felt like she was the light itself, pluming outward, and for a moment was in full control. She rushed the woman attacking her with the light, incinerated the ropes, slammed into the walls and throwing out the power in the ship. Vers’s body was ricocheted backward, flying hard against the ceiling. Her head cracked against it and she was on the floor again. The slaves surrounded her, looking down at her.

“She killed her…” one of the slaves said.

“I’m…alive…” Vers struggled to groan out.

“No, Kree-soldier, you killed her,” the slave moved to the right, and Vers was pulled up to a sitting position by the slaves. Her head felt like an echo chamber and she was having a hard time keeping it from straining on her week, suddenly-noodle-like neck. Still, she could see the woman laying on the floor, blood puddling from her head.

The weapon she’d been using should have been laying beside her, but it was gone. She felt like passing out, the failure of the mission hitting her in a wave of subduing self-loathing, and she slumped over. Let me pass out, please, she thought. It would be better to delay Ronan’s disappointment.

“Vers!” The call hardly roused her, the voice wasn’t Yon-Rogg’s after all so why bother with looking up? She giggled a little; when had she ever been so Yon-Rogg obsessed? Or maybe that had just always been the case.

“We’ve got her from here. You, lead the slaves to the ship. I can’t believe it, she really did it.” All the sentences belonged to different voices, but the chatter pressed in on Vers all at once, seeming to surround her at all edges.

“Crap, they did a number. Vers, don’t pass out, or you could worsen any brain damage. Come on, get her up, let’s go.” Vers felt them picking her up and continued to reel back and forth, giddy to upset and back again.

Things were fizzling in and out. Spaceship. Yon-Rogg’s face—that threw her from melancholy back into a thrill, she reached for his cheek and he said something indistinguishable—then a bed of some sort. Doctors, lights in her eyes, drugs.

Finally, sleep.

The next time Vers woke up she was bitterly angry with herself. No mirror session would fix this rage and self-loathing. She sat up; her head felt better, but she was scowling still. She was in the guest room Ronan had provided her with on Kree-Lar. Little birds flew outside, clacking their beaks and sometimes landing to crouch with four legs across the railing of a balcony.

“You’re awake?” The voice caught her by surprise. She glanced over to see Yon-Rogg. He was sitting on the couch, smiling in a relaxed way.

“How long was I out?” Vers asked, a hand going to her head.

“Only a night or so. You had brain damage, but Ronan turned the inhibitor on your neck all the way down for an hour or so and you healed yourself naturally with your powers,” as he spoke he stood up, striding across the room in a lazy way. Winding toward her. “Ronan has a lot of things to say, Vers. Turns out when your power surged, you used full capacity at the limit of that implant. You knocked all the lights out on that spaceship, trapping all the slavers, and somehow your glow passed over the slaves without harming a hair on their head. It should have been impossible.”

Vers grinned. “That’s fantastic!” She exclaimed.

Yon-Rogg returned her smile, but something tugged at the edges. “Yes, you’re incredible. Ronan is extremely pleased with the results of your mission.” He shifted uncomfortably at this, looking to the floor. “As soon as you gain consciousness, he wants to see you.”

“Really?” Vers looked down at the floor. “I guess it’s to be expected. I don’t know why he’s angry, the mission turned out okay.”

“The mission turned out phenomenal, Vers. That’s why he wants to see you.” He shot her a long, meaningful look.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Vers asked. Yon-Rogg took a breath.

“I have to let him know you’re awake.” He said, turning and heading to the door. He paused, head down. He didn’t look at her when he spoke. “Another thing. I…I don’t want you think about me. This is an incredible opportunity, Vers. Don’t make a mistake based on me.”

With that, he left. Vers blew her cheeks up and let out a long breath before fixing her hair using the high mirror on the wall. She sat on the edge of the bed, wondering if Ronan would send a guard to come get her.

“What was bothering Yon-Rogg?” Vers asked aloud, to no one. She nibbled her lip, and then it came to her. “Oh. Ronan is going to ask me to join one of his teams. Of course! And Yon-Rogg’s worried about us not seeing each other because of distance! I’ll just explain to him that I can fly, and—“

There was a knock on the door. “Come in!” Vers called, hoping they hadn’t heard her carrying on a conversation with herself. She had experienced some brain damage so maybe they wouldn’t think anything of it?

Vers expected a guard, so she flinched when Ronan came in. She was extremely conscious of her undersuit, which was a white, skin-tight suit that soldiers wore beneath the Kree uniform. It was considered just slightly better than straight-up underwear or pajamas.

She straightened her back, clasping her hands in her lap. She forced a grin on her face. “Sorry, I expected a guard to lead me up to your room, I would have cleaned up.” Vers said, offering her excuse. Honestly, she didn’t really care. Ronan disliked her and referred to her as a “weapon” so she didn’t really care about turning down an offer to join his team.

“You’re fine,” Ronan said, his tone softer than it had ever been towards her before. Vers frowned in surprise, looking up to get a view of him. She noticed he wasn’t wearing body armor, but the traditional passion-red robes of Kree Elite in fancy situations. Those situations included important dinners, ballroom dances, and even weddings. Was asking her to leave Yon-Rogg’s team really that heavy? “Vers, I am not one to complicate things. Your performance in this latest mission was unexpected. I knew they had a weapon designed to mediate the abilities of people…similar to you. I wanted to test this weapon out.”

Vers’ mouth fell open, but before she could speak he continued.

“I sent you to fail,” Ronan said, not a hint of remorse in his eyes. “You didn’t. That has made you an important person in the eyes of the Kree Empire. In the eyes of the Supreme Intelligence.” His words were layered, but carried an undertone of disrespect, causing Vers’ stomach to twinge. “Important enough to be permanently set on my radar.” He leveled her with an intense gaze, heavy with the same meaning Yon-Rogg had.

“I…don’t follow,” Vers admitted, eying him in confusion.

“I want your hand in marriage,” Ronan answered.

Vers made a noise like she’d been punched in the stomach. “You don’t even like me!” Vers outbursted, then covered her mouth. The glow rushed through her veins, twisting in her stomach, demanding she do something to get it out.

“Those stationed higher than me wish to see it,” Ronan responded, his face a blank slate until his cheek twitched in annoyance.

This is what Yon-Rogg was talking about, Vers realized.

“Um. It’s a no,” Vers said.

“What’s a no?” Ronan asked, swapping neutrality for a scowl.

“I’m not marrying you. Sorry. I don’t think you can stand me,” Vers replied. “Besides, there’s someone else.”

“Who?” Ronan’s tone was scathing, demanding. A little disbelieving.

“I don’t really have to answer that,” Vers replied. “Also, you can go ahead if you want, but I’m leaving. There’s someone I need to speak to.”

Vers stepped forward, meaning to brush by Ronan, but he caught her arm. “You don’t simply say ‘no’ and walk away. You answer to Thanos and the Supreme Intelligence.”

“I need to talk to—“ she tried to tug, but his grip on her arm increased. He held up the orb from earlier and, with the same hand he held it with, flicked the inhibitor’s levels higher. Vers felt the glow being sapped out of her. “Hey, stop!” She shouted. The implant on her neck felt cold, like a block of ice in her skin. She tried to reach around him for the orb, but he held it tight. In her efforts, she ended up closer to his face than she’d intended. His expression was cold, hard, fixed intently on her with a hated that extinguished resistance.

“Do not forget who holds your powers, your silly ‘glow’ as you call it, in his hands.” Ronan hissed down at her. “I think you’re a foolish girl distracted by wild emotions handed down by primal, pathetic ancestry. I also believe you can’t help this, which is why I’ve endured you so far. That, and for the sake of your exquisite powers. But if I am forced to make you my wife, I will endure these things no longer. You will be silent and you will stamp down your petty emotions.”

Vers’s body felt stone-cold; no glow rose up to his challenge. It was only her, staring up at him as he gripped her upper arm painfully tight, and she felt pathetically weak. A shell of herself. Was this her without the glow? Just a little…shell. She couldn’t meet the level of animosity directed at her, so she fixated on one small piece of what he said that irked her.

“What would you know about my ancestry? I’m an amnesiac. You assume because I’m a pink-skinned Kree, I come from nothing.” Vers growled instead. Ronan chuckled.

“Not terribly bright, either,” Ronan rebutted. “Assuming you’re Kree so easily. So desperate to fit in.”

“What else would I be?” Vers asked.

“Nothing that matters,” Ronan returned. The hatred in his voice, the complete disregard with which he said it, everything pricked tears into her eyes.

“Yeah, well you’re truculent, and I’ll let you explain to Thanos that I rejected your proposal!” With that, Vers pushed hard and twisted her arm out of his grasp, darting beneath his elbow for the door. Truculent was an insult she’d heard Att-lass call Ronan in privacy. Ronan didn’t make any attempt to stop her, letting her rush out the door. 

She’d made it halfway down the hallway when her powers flowed suddenly back into her. Ronan’s way of telling her to fly away, or maybe he was just trying to overwhelm her. Either way, it sent her toppling to her knees, where she curled up on the floor that singed beneath her touch. She was out of control, she realized. He was right about that. She couldn’t match his hatred toward her and she couldn’t survive a marriage with him. All the same, she’d noticed his way of speaking. Even with her rejection, the marriage was an eventuality.

Vers needed to see Yon-Rogg, but all the same she couldn’t handle it. She couldn’t stand to see his handsome face, his sandy curls, his…everything that Vers couldn’t have. Wiping her face, she rushed down the hall, knowing she couldn’t see Yon-Rogg, but she would explode if she saw Ronan. She ran for the door, suddenly thankful that Ronan had given her back at least some of her glow so she could escape and go cool off. That was somewhat merciful, maybe her marriage wouldn’t be so bad, and—

“No!” Vers shouted to herself. A guard standing just outside the door looked at her, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She took off in flight using the glow, fast and smooth, quicker than ever before. Vers felt elated, even though everything was happening so quickly her brain felt fuzzy with all the swarming details. 

She flew outside the atmosphere, looking down on Kree-Las from a sky view, staring at the swirling gray and blue. Up here, everything felt so small compared to the gigantic scale of the planet. It was humongous, it was everything. She was just a little bead of water existing on its side, and so was Ronan. Being blue didn’t make him any better than her, right?

Space felt cool, the glow within her hot. She had to expend it somehow. She began to fly, feeling more than a little out of control. She wasn’t afraid of getting lost; Yon-Rogg had taught her the stars. She wasn’t afraid of anything, she thought, except whatever future she would have with Yon-Rogg.

Vers passed many stars. They began to blur together, little white dots, and a hunger was building up in her stomach. Her eyes felt blurry, tired. She needed to head back, she realized, but she was too exhausted and dazed. Her messenger was going off; she saw it was Yon-Rogg and the crocodile tears sprung insistently back up. She answered even with them falling down her cheeks.

“Yon-Rogg, I—“

“Vers, this is an emergency situation. Ronan didn’t want you leaving; I was supposed to be waiting outside the room to take you training. You left the room sooner than we expected…but Ronan didn’t want you leaving the planet. You need to come back.”

“I can come back, Yon-Rogg, I just need a bit more time to cool off.”

“Vers, you need to turn back now. We have intel that enemy ships are looking for you. Skrull ships. And they recently took over a Kree ship, meaning they have stealth tech. The could be stalking you now.”

That yanked Vers from her emotions back to reality. She looked around her nervously, at the empty space. This was dead space, not even a planet in sight, only stars. “No one’s around.” She said, uncertainly.

“The point of stealth tech is to not be noticed until it’s too late. Stay on the line with me, Vers, so I know where you’re at and what your progress is.” Yon-Rogg returned. Vers nodded, staring down at the little blue figure that represented him on her communicating device.

“I’ll start back now—“

“I don’t think so, missy,” the voice shocked her. Vers spun around to see nothing but empty space yet again. There was a flicker in the space before her and a ship appeared. A man held a gun, aimed at her.

“Stand down—“ Vers was cut off when he fired. 

“What’s happening!” Yon-Rogg shouted, his voice distorting and then crackling out. The space gun was the same as the galacta-killer the woman she’d fought earlier had used, roping around her arms, but this one was better.

“Told you, she couldn’t stand too well against the prototype, she won’t break free of the newer versions,” the other figure said, almost conversationally. “Just up it a little bit, and it could dart Thor himself clean-cold,” the figure attacking Vers did so, and the glow crackled within her, but it couldn’t stand up to the blast.

Just like that, she slipped away.


	6. Back Then

Carol Danvers had been laughing uproariously just moments ago.

Of course, karaoke with Maria did that to her. She got the giggles something fierce; it was just the way Maria sang, bobbing her head back and forth, smoothly stealing the microphone when Carol wanted it. All of it was too much, too funny, and Carol couldn’t sing a song straight-through to save her life. She just got too giddy.

Yup, just minutes ago she was singing and dancing and having fun. Maria had been too. And then he’d had to come into the bar, acting like he owned the place. None other than Martin Keeney, Monica’s dad, the piece of garbage that now had Maria crying in the bathroom, refusing to come out.

“Maria, who cares what he says? He’s a jerk!” Carol said, but Maria shook her head.

“He’s the one with a beautiful new girlfriend. I’m just…some pilot wannabe with a little girl I don’t deserve. I’m so stupid, I believed him when he said he would marry me.” Maria bowed her head in defeat. Carol felt rage stir up in her chest, focusing beneath her collarbone.

“Okay, that’s just straight up not true! You’re not stupid, and you’re a fantastic mom. And, by the way, it takes two to tango. He might be a total deadbeat mistake, but he’s still a dad. He should be helping you with Monica, instead of leaving you to do it alone! That says more about him than it does you.”

But Maria continued to shake her head. “No. It’s not him they say is easy.” Maria said, and another tear slipped loose. Carol’s jaw jerked to the right, her hands tensing, her feet filled with the nearly-irresistible urge to kick the plumbing loose from the sink.

“You wait right here.” Carol said.

“What are you going to do?” Maria asked. Carol had turned, heading for the bathroom door. “Carol, wait! Where are you going?” Carol ignored her, emerging into the hectic, loud bar. She bee-lined straight toward where Martin stood, chatting with a couple of women and a man in a leather jacket. He was talking about some motorcycle he’d bought. Carol had thought he was cool back when Maria and him were dating, but between the two she’d take Maria and her incredible loyalty any day.

That’s why she would never regret, for a second, what came next.

“Hey, Martin!” She called. He turned around just in time to get introduced to the two foremost knuckles of her right fist. He fell backwards, toppling into the table, and the redheaded pixie cut that had been chatting him up screamed and jumped over a stool to dart off into the bar, clinging onto her friend’s arm.

“Carol, what the hell? I thought you were cool!” Martin shouted, hand going to his jaw.

Carol laughed. “I thought you were semi-decent. Forget you have a daughter?”

“You’re drunk,” Martin accused. Carol’s temper flared again, she cocked her eyebrow.

“You’re a jerk.”

She charged forward. Maria had caught up by then, but she couldn’t stop what happened next. Martin grabbed Carol and threw her backward into a table. Carol kicked him in the balls, and he grabbed her hair, pulling her head back and belting her in the face. Maria tackled him, screaming for him to stop, and two or three men who frequented the bar rushed forward to hold Martin down.

Carol got to her feet. The right side of her body ached from hip to knee, and there was a sharp pain in her ribcage. Her left cheek was throbbing. Still, she smiled.

“What were you thinking? He’s twice your size!” Maria shouted in her face. 

“What can I say? He looked at me funny, so I lost my temper,” Carol answered with a little laugh. Maria let out a dry sob and threw her arms around Carol.

There was a flicker, like static. The image of the bar went out.

A new one came in.

A go-kart race. A skinny boy with a Band-Aid on his cheek was grinning at Carol, maybe a little playfully. She was small just like him, and reeling with anger over some new offense from her parents. Stay inside, help mom with the chores…meanwhile, her brother had run of the yard, got to do all the sports he wanted to, got to have fun. She just wanted to have fun.

“Girls can’t keep up with boys. Everyone knows that,” the boy said. One of his ugly friends snickered.

“We can too,” Carol argued, aggravated by being told she couldn’t at home. This skinny, stupid boy was going to tell her the same thing? No way.

“Then prove it,” he snarled. That was how they ended up in go-karts.

“Don’t you kids roughhouse! No bumping karts, okay?” The guy in charge barked.

“Yeah, yeah,” the scrawny boy with the Band-Aid said, before sneering at Carol. “Let’s see what you got, slowpoke.” And they were off. Carol relished in the speed as it hit her, whipping her blonde hair back over her shoulder. She clung to the inside of the track, and pretty soon she managed to pass up the boy she was raising. 

She grinned to herself; she was winning, she was showing a boy up! They’d agreed on going around three times, first to cross the finish line the winner. It was in her sights, a straight shot, and he was behind her. Right at her tire, but with no hope of catching up. She didn’t bother to look back, elated by the prospect of winning. She wanted to turn the skinny Band-Aid boy into her brother, and have her father watch the moment she crossed the finish line.

She was staring at the finish line when he rammed her car, sending her spinning. The crash was a whir of motion and terror; she could hardly breathe and then, all of a sudden, it was over and she was crawling out of the wreck. The boy was doing victory laps, whooping and flashing a ragged grin.

Tears welled up. She suppressed them; she couldn’t stand to be called a crybaby yet again. She’d just decided nothing could make this worse when she heard a voice.

“Carol Susan Jane!” Her mother’s voice. She turned a second before her mother grabbed her arm and slapped her hard on the face. She grabbed her shoulders, turning her back to face her. “You could have been killed!”

“Janice, back off. Enough,” her father said, pushing her mother off. He fixed Carol with a stern gaze. “She’s right, you know. You could have been killed.”

The tears started then. Her father sighed.

“Really? Crying? You brought all of this on yourself, don’t get emotional now.” Her dad said. Behind him, Carol could see her brother, watching as if this was all some strange curiosity. When he saw the boy making fun of Carol, he walked a bit away, as if getting distance from her. Probably for the sake of his reputation.

That scene faded away, this time like someone switching the lights off. They switched it back on, and Carol saw Maria in another plane, giving her a thumbs-up. Off, back on. The gates opened, she strode out. A man stood there.

“Ready for flight, Carol?” The man asked. He beamed at her, and the sight of his face was like a dam cracking open. Doctor Walter Lawson. Everything rushed her all at once, all of Vers a puzzle piece snapping into the bigger picture that was Carol Susan Jane Danvers.

Her brain took over whatever contraption was searching through her memories, jumping to a different place in her mind. 

A memory she knew, implicitly, that she needed to see. 

She was in an aircraft, flying with Doctor Lawson. It was space-capable. She felt so free, she was even happier she’d taken the mission instead of Maria. She loved Maria, she was her best friend, and when she’d heard the mission was dangerous but important, it had to be her. That was the first reason. The sheer joy of flight was the second. Up here, there was a freedom she couldn’t buy down there.

“Keep your eyes open, Carol! They’re here!”

“Who?” Carol asked. She spotted the ship a second later, and the chase began. She got no more information from Doctor Lawson besides that it was an enemy of some sort. They were shot down despite Carol’s best efforts, landing in a dusty heap.

“What’s going on?” Carol demanded, tearful.

“You can’t let them have the tesseract,” Doctor Lawson was limp, blue blood draining from a cut on his head as he spoke. Carol felt even more panicked by the blue blood, wondering if she’d hit her head. “You have to…destroy it.” That was the first reason. The sheer joy of flight was the second. Up here, there was a freedom she couldn’t buy down there.

“Keep your eyes open, Carol! They’re here!”

“Who?” Carol asked. She spotted the ship a second later, and the chase began. She got no more information from Doctor Lawson besides that it was an enemy of some sort. 

They were shot down despite Carol’s best efforts, landing in a dusty heap.

“What’s going on?” Carol demanded, tearful.

“You can’t let them have the tesseract, it’s an infinity stone,” Doctor Lawson was limp, blue blood draining from a cut on his head as he spoke. Carol felt even more panicked by the blue blood, wondering if she’d hit her head. “You have to…destroy it.” Using the last of his strength he pointed, and she followed his finger to some sort of glowing energy reactor.

Carol started toward it when the pursuing spaceship landed. She grabbed a gun instead, aiming it at the ship as a figure emerged.

“Don’t make a move,” A strange man with dusty hair, pink skin, the green and blue of the Kree uniform. No, Vers thought, wanting to fight it. This can’t be real, can’t be real, can’t be real. “Set the weapon down, you might keep your life.”

“I—I already called for backup. They’re on their way,” Carol’s hands shook; the fear was insane. She knew she was a sensitive woman, her emotions piqued easily, but this was a situation that terrified her. She didn’t understand who or what this man was, only that he had whipped out of space and attacked her, and Dr. Lawson was bleeding blue, and maybe he was dead.

“Really? Then I see no reason to extend this conversation,” he lifted his weapons, and she directed her gaze to the thing Dr. Lawson had called a tesseract, which was obscured from Yon-Rogg’s view in the rubble. He realized a moment before she shot why she’d changed her aim so drastically.

“No!” He shouted, but she’d pulled the trigger. It exploded, the light and heat more powerful than anything Carol had ever known, even in her fast-paced, action-packed life of Vers, and Carol knew it was the moment that defined her existence. That explosion, throwing her backward, hair flying, energy forcing its way into every pore, Yon-Rogg shouting as he witnessed the lightshow.

She felt a thousand things. Fear was the loudest, but it was accompanied by regret, sadness, anger, and…loudest of all, most painful and thrilling of all, love. Love, which swelled in her chest again, accompanied by rosy-tinted memories of star-gazing with her adoptive family, Maria and Monica, goofy karaoke sessions, a successful flight.

The explosion knocked Carol out. Yon-Rogg strode over, picked up her broken dog tag. Took the part that read Vers, left behind Carol Dan.

The glow mounted. It wasn’t an angry sensation, but rather a response to her realization. An approval, almost. The glow wasn’t an extension of her, not originally, Carol realized suddenly. It was the tesseract, and it had decided on her for some reason, as if it were its own living, real thing, with a spirit to it. It dwelled in her very veins and filled her with a power that was enough to catch Ronan’s eyes, implant or not.

The tesseract, infinity stone, had chosen to spare her. Then, to strengthen her. To become a part of her. Now, that part of it that had burst free and consumed her in that crash now was hers always.

Infinity stone. The glow surged up and Carol was aware of metal crackling at her wrists. She pushed harder, further, faster, the crinkling growing louder, more imminent, and a cracking at her temples followed. Something hot ran down her temples, and she realized she was being suspended on her back. Finally, eyes forced open, she saw she was in a Skrull ship. She could hear them yelling to each other now, and she surged hotter with the glow, forcing her way out.

“We can’t stop her! She’ll break loose!” A skrull shouted.

“She saw too much! How did she take control of the simulation?” Another yelled in response.

“Get out of the way! They’re bringing the galacta-killer guns.” 

Panic mounted. She had to get out of here before that happened. With every bit of glow in her, she ground her teeth, pushing everything out and using her own human strength to finally tear metal loose. She flew out of the contraption they’d held her in to examine her memories right as soldiers rushed in, each holding galacta-killers instead of normal Skrull blasters.

They aimed at her. Carol didn’t know how much power she had access to—after all, Ronan still had control of her implant—so the best option was clear. She couldn’t fight galacta-killers directly. She turned her palms to the floor, blasting a hole beneath her and falling through it. Down there, the escape pods were visible and unused. She rushed toward one as Skrulls yelled for her to stop; she was impervious to Skrull blasters, so she continued running. She entered one of the space pods, turning around and shooting several quick photon warning blasts before hitting for take-off. 

The escape pod keeled out into space, and she piloted it swiftly, all the experience of piloting on earth polluting herself. Earth…that was where she belonged, not Kree.

A crazy idea was filling her head, now. 

She wasn’t Vers, after all, she was this Carol Danvers person. Whoever she was. She checked and saw that her comms were off-line and she was well out of range for Yon-Rogg to contact her. 

Presumably, no one in the Kree Empire knew where she’d gone. If she could lose the Skrulls, they’d have no idea where she was either. And, she remembered Earth well enough. If she could only find Maria Rambeau, she could simply start over.

Carol raced toward Earth, following the stars Yon-Rogg had guided her in memorizing, a million scenarios of what could happen rushing through her mind. She remembered Maria, but now she had distance from who she had been as Carol. Vers was a wholly different being, she’d fallen for Yon-Rogg who had attacked Carol after all, and she wasn’t someone that Maria would recognize at all. Carol would have to reintroduce herself stealthily and carefully to Maria. She didn’t want to frighten her.

She had a plan, which was good, especially considering that Earth (C-53; that was what Yon-Rogg had called it, coldly and impersonally, as if he’d never stood on the soil there and considered killing Vers, the woman he later slept with—crap, she couldn’t afford to get angry all over about that again, although when she thought about it she totally turned down Ronan for Yon-Rogg, which had—not now, Carol) was in view.

It was beautiful. Green, blue, and brown, swirled with white clouds. Not so different from other planets she’d seen, yet unique. Something about it called her to it. This was the next step of her journey. She shifted the escape pod into stealth mode, turning it invisible and untraceable.

Here goes nothing, Carol told herself. She descended toward Earth.


	7. Maria Rambeau

Carol landed the spacecraft in a desert.

She felt some concern about remembering where she left it, so she tried to think of it like stars. She mapped where it was with landmarks she recalled from her childhood. All of it was so weird, this old life she’d forgotten overwhelming her anger and hurt from Yon-Rogg. It was easy to press those emotions to the back of her mind and press forward from there.

Carol walked the length to the road, figuring that conserving her glow usage was smart. She wasn’t sure how it worked exactly, but there was a chance that the control Ronan had over her implant meant that he could measure (at least somewhat) how much of her glow she was using. Nothing was certain, and she wished she had, as Vers, paid more attention to the things around her. Damn, she had been obsessed with Yon-Rogg. It figured, he was the one person who was nice to her, and she…

She’d reached a road. She shook her head, refocusing, and began walking down the side of it. Carol knew she’d driven this road before, sometimes with her best friend and often without. Maria, she could picture all too clearly in her head. She could remember warm hugs and cups of coffee and helping her pick out new hairstyles. All of it welled up in her chest, building a fondness at the purity of their friendship. 

She was different than Yon-Rogg, who hadn’t minded lying to her, and Carol knew it was unrealistic to expect the world from Maria, yet she did. She needed Maria to be everything she remembered and to even exceed those expectations. Maria was the one person she could prove, at least in the realm of her memories, cared about her.

It wasn’t long before a car passed by her, but instead of continuing on it pulled over ahead of her. Carol walked up to it, intending to pass it, but the driver called to her.

“Hey! Nice scuba suit, cutie!” He grinned. “If I was on my motorcycle, I’d offer you a cooler ride, but, alas, I only got this hunk of junk.” He revved it at that. “Still, gets where I’m going. You headed that away?” he thumbed in the general direction Carol was heading.

Carol was semi-impressed. He wore sunglasses over his eyes, and Carol remembered that this was a signified that he was cool. That, and the way he spoke, all of it seemed so suave. Carol told him they were heading the same way and hopped into the car, ready to take off. He shifted into gear and began up the highway. 

He turned the radio up after he asked her a few questions she avoided. He drove her through the city, dropping her off in front of a flower shop. Carol waited until he was gone to head through the city streets, weaving her way down the sidewalks.

Earth was less rigid than any of the Kree planets. Earth was filled with people dancing and singing, walking in groups down the sidewalks, selling food, arguing. Any range of emotion was visible just glancing around the filled streets. People gawked at Carol’s uniform and she gawked at them in turn, surprised by how openly they expressed their feelings. There was no hesitation, no attempt at concealment.

Carol turned down any offered rides, instead reaching the subdivision in her own time. Her stomach was cramping with hunger, but she approached the familiar house nervously all the same. She could see the open backyard, Maria’s car parked in the driveway, the windows shut and curtains neatly drawn. Her stomach tied in knots, the pain in her gut not all due to hunger. Stress, fear of rejection.

She knocked on the door.

“One minute!” A voice called within. Carol looked down at her feet, balling her hands up as she waited. The door was pulled open, and, finally, she looked into Maria’s face.

Maria was exactly as she remembered. Fluffy pixie cut, framing dark, doe-like eyes. Her skin was clear of any blemishes, and dark brown enough to capture the light in flattering highlights. She stared at Carol with an eyebrow arched, seemingly knocked speechless.

“Aunt Carol?” A small voice called. Carol looked past as a small girl with large dark curls ran up, pushing past her mother to throw her arms around Carol’s hips in a tight hug. She broke free and bounced with excitement. “You’re home! Come inside!” She said, grabbing her hand and tugging her in. Carol glanced at Maria curiously.

“Yeah, come in,” Maria said. She shut the door behind Carol, seemingly winded and more than a little out of it. Little Monica led Carol to the table, where Carol took a seat.

“I’m sorry to intrude, I just…didn’t know where else to go. And I missed you two.” Carol smiled across the table at Monica, Maria’s darling little girl. In her desperation to reach Maria, she’d half-forgotten how much Monica meant to her. Monica with her sharp wit and her talent for vivid art and exuberant storytelling. She was the one who welcomed Carol back with open arms immediately; Carol sensed Maria would need more than that.

“We missed you too, Aunt Carol. We missed you so much that mommy used to cry all the time,” Monica said, by ways of explanation. She’d picked up one of her dropped crayons and resumed coloring a picture of a flying superheroine with flowing blonde hair. Carol was tempted to slip back into normality, ask Monica whatcha drawing, cutie? but she felt Maria’s heartbroken gaze on her shoulders. It was unfair to expect Maria to accept her back in without hesitation.

“Monica, I want to talk to you more, but I need to talk to your mom first, okay?”

“Without me?” Monica asked, giving her a heartbroken look. Carol felt guilty, but she knew she had to persist.

“For now, but I will explain everything to you later too. Okay?” Monica seemed satisfied with this, so Carol stood and followed Maria wordlessly into her bedroom. Maria shut the door behind her and then stepped forward, sitting on the bed. Immediately, her face scrunched up as if ready to cry.

“Where have you been? Everyone said you died, you and Dr. Lawson both! There was that terrible crash, and then you were just gone,” Maria said, effusing with emotion. “Do you even know how much I missed you? You’re my best friend Carol, and, really, my only friend. Without you, I’ve been alone. I only went to those bars because you wanted to, now I’m just holed up all the time missing you. Monica is great, I love her, but she’s still my kid and your kid shouldn’t be your only friend. Where have you been? Why would you just leave us behind?”

Carol let her get it all out, waiting until she was finished. Finally, she spoke. “I had good reason, Maria, and I’ve missed you too. It’s a bit difficult to explain—“

“What’s with that outfit anyway? It looks like a…like some kind of fetish thing.” Maria crinkled her nose in disapproval. Carol flushed.

“Maria, stop asking questions and listen,” Carol said, a bit more edge to her tone. She smoothed herself back out, putting her emotions in check. “Okay, so I’ll start with the crash. It wasn’t an accident, we got shot down.” Maria covered up her mouth at that, eyes going wide. “Yeah, by aliens. Turns out Dr. Lawson was all wrapped up in some bad things. And, I was in the middle of it. Dr. Lawson died in the crash, but I lived. I accidentally…absorbed this power source, and the aliens took me with them.”

“What?” Maria asked, shaken. “Are you high, Carol? Did you come home high?”

Carol shook her head. “No, look how I’m dressed. Maria, I have powers now. I call it my glow.” She held up her hand and let a bit of bright light leak out.

“What in the high heaven?” Maria mumbled, eyes fixed on Carol’s hand. She looked up into her face. “How is that possible?”

“I was in some kind of explosion. Dr. Lawson was mixed up with those aliens. Until recently, I had no memory of you, of my home, but now I remember everything and I wanted to come back—“

“Carol, are there aliens chasing you now?” Maria asked, a touch of fear in her eyes.

“Um, I don’t think they know where I went. Not yet, anyway. But it’s a real possibility.” Carol admitted. Maria raced forward, giving her a hug. When she pulled back from the hug, she gripped Carol’s hands and looked sternly up at her face.

“I’m glad you’re back, you will always be welcome here, but this seems dangerous. I can’t handle this. These aliens killed someone, right?”

“A lot of people,” Carol amended grimly. “The Kree were the aliens that had me, and they’re at war with the Skrulls. I was a Kree soldier, so I know first-hand that both sides can be…brutal. I regret a lot of what I did for the Empire.” She cast her gaze onto her boots, grimly.

“Okay, well you can’t take all of that back now. We gotta look to the future. Carol, we have to take this to the government.”

“The government?” Carol sprang to attention. “Wait, Maria, I don’t know about that. Dr. Lawson was in the government!”

“Girl, we can’t just do nothing. Look, my mom is friends with a guy who’s high up there. Works in something called S.H.I.E.L.D. I’ll call her about this and we can drop Monica off with her on the way, then head to meet him.”

“Can I have a dinner first? Maybe just one normal night back on Earth?” Carol asked, applying a pitiable begging tone in her voice. She pouted and tugged on Maria’s sleeve a little bit; she could see her expression softening.

“Alright, fine. But let me call my mother about this. You go talk to Monica, the girl has gone half-crazy missing you.” Maria said, opening the bedroom door as she said this. Monica, whose ear had been pressed to the door, toppled in with a yelp.

She looked up, offering a sheepish grin in response to Maria’s scolding scowl.

“Monica Grace. How many times have I caught you like that? When will you learn?” Maria lectured.

“Momma, Carol came home. Tonight is a special one,” Monica replied, a little bit begging. Maria shot Carol a so-help-me look and shook her head.

“Yeah, no trouble tonight. You get to hang out with Carol while I make a call,” Maria replied. “But tomorrow, you go to your grandma’s with no complaint. Okay?”

“Yes ma’am!” Monica replied, springing to her feet with an enthusiastic grin. Monica clasped Carol’s hand as Maria wove her way to go and make a phone call. “Come on, Carol, I want to show you something!”

Carol laughed as Monica pulled her into the kitchen. It felt familiar, though Monica was older than she remembered. Monica told her to sit at the kitchen table, darting off into the other room. As Carol waited, she glanced at the drawing Monica had done earlier. 

She turned the picture to face her and examined it closely. It depicted a woman flying with long blonde hair, Rapunzel-style, flowing around her, circling her legs. Her legs were bare, save for black thigh high boots, and she wore a black swimsuit-like costume. There was a yellow lightning bolt on her chest. She looked like a Barbie character.

Monica noisily set a plastic box on the table in front of Carol, making her jump. She wore a smirky, self-satisfied little smile. “You like my drawing, Carol?” She asked.

Carol laughed. “Of course, she’s beautiful. Who is she?”

“I’ve been calling her Captain Marvel! She’s a superhero I made up. I gave her blonde hair like you, Carol, because I missed you...she never was supposed to be you before, but I heard you and momma talking. It sounds like you’re a superhero already. Can I see it?”

“See it?” Carol asked, a little baffled. Monica nodded and looked to her hands.

“You called it the glow. Can I see it?”

Carol hesitated. She wondered if it would make Maria mad, but decided a second later that, while she didn’t want to disrespect Maria, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her…

“Promise you won’t tell anyone.”

“Pinky promise! And my lips are sealed.” Monica said, twisting her pinky around Carol’s and beaming back up. Carol glanced at where Maria spoke on the phone before looking back down at Monica. She exchanged another cheesy grin with her before lighting her hands slowly up. Monica’s eyes lit up. “Wow, it’s like stardust or maybe a lava lamp. It’s beautiful Auntie Carol.” Monica reached her hands up, and Carol pulled away, suppressing the glow again.

“Oh, honey no, don’t touch. It could burn you—“

“You should be Captain Marvel! Please, be her!” Monica proclaimed suddenly. “You can rescue people and save lives and everything!”

“Ah, Monica, no, I kind of just want to go back to normal life as Carol Danvers—“

“What’s going on in here?” Both Carol and Monica turned to see Maria standing in the door. She wore a bemused smile, watching the scene unfold.

“Nothing!” Carol exclaimed as Monica said, “I want Carol to be a superhero!”

“Oh, sugar,” Maria replied, letting out a small deft laugh. She walked across the kitchen, giving Monica a quick smooth on the top of her curls. “I’ve been letting you read too many Captain America comics. In real life, being a superhero is dangerous. Look what happened to that poor man.”

“But mom, Captain America didn’t have the powers Captain Marvel has—“

“Captain Marvel?” Maria repeated in disbelief.

Monica pointed at Carol. “My auntie!”

“Oh, Monica, no,” Maria said, shaking her head gently. “You will not push Carol to be Captain Marvel—“ Maria glanced at Carol, explaining quickly in aside. “—Captain Marvel is this cool girl-power fantasy Monica’s had, she wanted to make her own superhero up, it helped with coping with you going missing—“

“Momma, she already knows.” Monica said frankly.

“Alright, little sass. My point is this: you can’t ask Carol to do something dangerous.”

“Maria, I fought as a soldier for the Kree Empire on the Elite Starforce Team. I’m kinda used to danger,” Carol looked to Monica. “All the same, all that action and adventure is fun but…I want to be home.”

“So stay, just be Earth’s hero! The new Captain America.”

“Okay, no,” Maria said, cocking an eyebrow. “You can not replace Captain America. He’s too fine.”

Carol laughs. “You guys want to watch a movie?”

“Ooh, and have hot chocolate?” Monica added.

“And maybe even some popcorn?” Maria winked. “We’d need to get Cap here a change of clothes, and maybe a shower too. She’s looking a little rough. You remember the way?”

“Aye aye!” Carol called, heading upstairs to the guest bathroom she used in her many past overnights in this same house. It was a dim, warmly lit home, smelling of cedarwood and vanilla. She closed her eyes and drank it in, tears springing up. She was really here. All of that Kree Empire stuff could be called a dull nightmare in the back of her mind. She could stay here, forever, right?

A part of her doubted it already, as she climbed into the shower. She began to rinse and soap off, realizing that she was legally dead on Earth. There might even be newspaper clippings of it. She’d been gone a long time, and—

The bathroom door opened. “Towels and a change of clothes, on orders of my commander!” Monica called. “I’m leaving it on the toilet.”

“Tell your mom I said thanks!” Carol replied.

“Oh, geez, no thanks for the foot soldier? I see how it is!” Monica replied and Carol laughed, genuinely. Tears pricked her eyes. For some reason, memories of Yon-Rogg’s touch swelled up inside her, and the mint of the soap she was using faded into the distinct scent of Yon-Rogg, rough leather and new aftershave.

She shook her head no, shampooed, finished washing up. She toweled off and got dressed in Maria’s soft pink nightclothes, yawning as she strode out of the bathroom, hair all wrapped up over her head. The smell of popcorn lured her into the kitchen and three bowls were made, along with a mug each of hot chocolate, before they headed out onto the couch.

They watched a children’s movie Carol hadn’t seen before, laughing until Monica fell asleep between them. The movie rolled on, and Maria glanced at Carol in the dark. The colors of the movie played across their faces in the dimness of the room, reflecting in Maria’s eyes as she smiled.

“It’s good to have you back, Carol.” Maria said, earnestly. Meaning it in a way Carol believed went to her core. Carol felt that emotion deep in her chest, and she knew instantly she would protect Maria and Monica both even if it meant she died. Even if it meant she had to return to the Kree.

Even if she had to face Yon-Rogg.


	8. It’s A Small Galaxy, After All

Bright and early.

Carol yawned, dragging herself into the kitchen, eyes still mostly shut. Monica sipped milk across from her, much in the same state. Maria, meanwhile, buzzed through the kitchen animatedly.

“Oh, come on you two. Maybe this will liven you up,” Maria shoved a mug of coffee in Carol’s hand. Carol began to slurp it down, and the heat brought her back a little bit. Maria clucked when she saw them both sitting, slumped and exhausted. “Look at you two. Utterly pathetic. I’ve been up a full hour before I woke you guys up! An extra hour of sleep makes no difference, you—“ 

“Maybe it’s just because you had longer to wake up,” Monica argued.

“Nonsense.” Maria returned. She set down three breakfast plates, and then put toast and eggs in the middle, sitting down herself.

“Any salt?” Carol asked.

“You know where it is,” Maria returned, and Carol gave a sly smile before getting up and grabbing salt. They ate a fairly quiet breakfast, and when it was over Carol slurped another mug of coffee down as Maria reminded Monica she’d agreed to go quietly, without complaint, to stay with her grandma.

All in the car, Monica resumed her case. “It just isn’t fair. Auntie Carol just got home.” She plead.

“I told you, that’s over. I don’t want to hear anymore of it.” Maria rebuked. Monica went quiet, casting her gaze on Carol instead.

“Promise you won’t do anything too cool without me?” She asked.

Carol laughed. “Can’t make promises. Your mom and I are cool naturally.” She winked, and Monica smiled.

“Okay, promise you’ll be Captain Marvel?” Monica paused after this, making a little face. “Well, only if you want to.”

“I’ll think about it, Monica. I mean, I like the sound of it. Captain Marvel,” Carol echoed, waggling her brows at Maria who laughed.

“She gets her goofiness from you.” Maria asserted

“I wasn’t aware I donated any genetics to Monica?” Carol replied, teasing.

“Oh, certainly not. It’s a learned behavior,” Maria returned, which made Monica laugh.

They pulled in front of Maria’s mother’s house. Monica didn’t complain again, getting out quietly and taking her overnight bag with her. Carol watched from the car, trying to look subtle since Maria didn’t want to have to explain her reappearance to her mother. Carol noticed Monica looking over her shoulder again and again. She’d missed that lively little kid. She lifted her hand and waved a little, and Monica eagerly returned it before heading willfully into the house.

“She’s a good kid,” Carol said as soon as Maria returned, sitting down.

“A bit spoiled, but that’s how I like ‘em,” Maria quipped playfully. “Now, c’mon, we’ve got places to be.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D., right?” Carol asked, crossing her arms and glancing out the window to her side. “You know, my experiences with the Kree didn’t exactly solidify my trust in the government.”

“Carol,” Maria said, exasperated. Carol refused to look at her, so she sighed. “Listen, girl, we can’t just sit here. What if they come to try and take you back?”

“They won’t. They don’t know where I am.”

“You admitted earlier you don’t know that for sure. And, mom already called the guy. She said standing him up…” Maria glanced around, lowering her voice. “She said standing him up isn’t good. Apparently, he’s just like his mom, and if you knew Miss Fury you would know she ain’t exactly sweet as a newborn kitten. You get me?”

Carol laughed. “Granted. Still, can you just cancel? Seriously, Maria, I just kind of want to enjoy being back on Earth.” She shot Maria her best puppydog pleading glance. It occurred to her vaguely that, since coming back on Earth, the self-deprecating part of her had fallen silent. She hadn’t even taken mirror time this morning.

Those facts caught her off-guard right as Maria finally broke. “Carol! Ugh, fine, it’s a bad idea, we should be doing the safe thing, but fine! Now come on, I have to go pick up my cat.”

“Your cat?” Carol echoed.

“Yes,” Maria answered, haughtily. “His name’s Goose.”

“Dr. Lawton’s old cat!” Carol exclaimed happily. Maria smiled.

“Yes, that’s who. I took him in after Lawton and you went missing. He’s trouble and a half, though, always sneaking off. Anyway, a neighbor called me yesterday and said she’d found him before I saw you and I was planning on picking Goose up on our way back from talking to Nick Fury.”

“I don’t think there’s any coming back from admitting to the government that you’re an alien,” Carol said, cynically.

“Yeah, well unlike you, I like to look on the bright side, especially considering this is really our only option.” Maria barked back. She paused for a moment, frowning slightly. “Also, fact check: you aren’t an alien.”

“I’ve been on an alien planet. As far as the government’s concerned, I’m an alien. To Area 51 with me!”

Maria laughed at that. “You’re a mess.” She said. It wasn’t long before they reached the neighbor’s house. As they got out of the car the door came open, and a woman with a bun and a knee-length skirt walked out carrying the orange cat.

“Here’s your little Goose!” The neighbor said, passing the kitty over into Maria’s arms.

“Thank you! I’m so sorry, I don’t know how he keeps getting out and wandering everywhere, all the time! He’s so bad,” Maria laughed apologetically. 

“Oh, it’s fine,” the neighbor assured her. They headed back down, Maria handing Goose to Carol.

“Keep a hold on him, okay?” Maria asked. Carol stroked the orange kitty with a small smile. They got in the car, Goose sitting on Carol’s lap and occasionally happily licking her fingers. Carol remembered from playing with him in Dr. Lawton’s office that he liked being scratched behind his ears; when she did that, he arched his little back.

“You know, this is way better than being thrown in Area 51. I’m holding an adorable cat and I think my chances of convincing my best friend to take me to get cheeseburgers are pretty good.” Carol said after Maria shut the car door. She started the car with a snort.

“Oh, I wouldn’t get too ahead of myself if I were you. We gotta drop the cat off.”

“Come on, a lunch treat? If we use the drive-thru, we can bring little Goose.” Carol asked, doing puppy dog eyes. “Please? We need to catch up! And, besides, we can talk to this Fury guy another time.” “He’s a government worker. He doesn’t have time to just meet us whenever—“

“Good! Frankly, I just want to be home. Please?” Carol asked. Maria sighed, putting the car into drive and pulling away from the curb. She drove slow, steady.

“We are at least gonna stay on the move while we chat.”

“Deal!” Carol chimed.

“And you are going to talk to Fury at some point.”

“There’s nothing the United States government could do against the Kree Empire anyway, but for your comfort? Fine.” Carol agreed, her tone still pleasant.

“Alright. Then it’s settled,” Maria agreed. She drove through the suburbs, pulling onto some backroads to cruise across. “So tell me what it’s like being an alien.”

“No way,” Carol returned. “I’ll tell you that only after you tell me yours. Have you been seeing anyone?” 

“Hah!” Maria laughed. “No. Never. Why would I waste a Friday night out to dinner with some no-good man when I could be in sweatpants doing crosswords?” Carol laughed at this and Maria eyed her. “Wait a second. Don’t tell me, you found some alien guy--?” 

Carol bit her lip and quickly averted her gaze.

“Aha! You did! Oh my gosh, you have to tell me everything! And here I remember you as dateless Danvers, and yet—“

“Hey, dateless Danvers?” Carol flushed, having forgotten that particular nickname.

“Oh, yeah! Not that guys weren’t trying. You just turned them all down,” Maria grinned. “So, who was the lucky man?”

Carol shook her head. “It wasn’t good.”

“Men aren’t good. I still want details.” Maria said, and so Carol told her everything. She described Yon-Rogg, the long-running romance, the sudden night spent together, the lies and betrayal.

“Wow. So he might not even know that you know that he’s scum?” Maria asked when Carol was finished. Carol laughed and shook her head, stroking Goose’s back. “Granted, he sounds sexy, and he had to be to break you down—“

“I didn’t remember anything, I was vulnerable and stupid—“

“Hush! I was midsentence over here,” Maria shot Carol an offended glance. “Now, back to it, he had to be hot, but that’s what men do. They be handsome to draw you in, get you off-guard, and that’s when they stomp on your heart.” Something flickered in Maria’s eyes when she said this.

“Martin did something while I was gone, didn’t he?” Carol asked, her voice softened.

Maria let out a soft monotone laugh. “No, that isn’t it,” before Carol could speak again, she said, “So, this Ronan guy you mentioned. What was that all about?”

Carol explained all that had happened, detailing to Maria her escape from Kree, how she recovered her memories, the Starforce team. 

“Sheesh,” Maria said. “You’ve been through it. I guess you earned cheeseburgers, for pure tenacity alone.” She pulled into a drive-in, ordering shakes and burgers, and they sat and ate overlooking the road and other restaurants and stores.

“This is a straight-mess, you know?” Maria said. “I don’t even know what’s best to do for you. I’m kind of…wondering about that whole meeting-a-government-agent idea. It might have been sorta dumb.”

“Not dumb, just desperate,” Carol replied. “It isn’t dumb to do your best to keep me safe.” Maria smiled at that, and Carol took a huge bite of her burger. She spoke with her mouth full. “Wow, these are delicious. Kree doesn’t have anything similar.”

“Do the Kree have manners?” Maria asked, cocking an eyebrow. Carol almost had to spit out the big bite of cheeseburger, she was laughing so hard.

Goose stalked the floor of the car, and when Maria wasn’t paying attention Carol flicked him fries. He snapped them up happily, eyes sparkling with affection when he looked to Carol. Apparently, food was the way to win little Goose over.

Carol yawned and stretched her arms after she finished her burger and had sucked down her whole milkshake. Maria was still eating, so Carol gazed across the street. She frowned as she noticed someone standing still on the opposite side of the street, staring into their car. Carol squinted, learning forward a little bit to better study the rigid stranger.

“What are you looking at?” Maria asked. Carol gestured subtly, and Maria turned to look across the street. “Oh, at that person?”

“Not sure it’s a person,” Carol answered.

“Oh, Lord. Just tell me it isn’t one of those shapeshifting Skrull things.” Maria said.

Carol pursed her lips. “One way to find out. And I’ve got to, because if they’ve followed me here, it could be bad news.” Carol reached for the door, then paused. “Wait, I want you to stay here with Goose. It could be dangerous. Oh, and, for emergency situations like this, remind me later, I have this pager-like thing that’s part of my suit I can give you--” Carol said. 

“Carol, that alien-person is getting away I think,” Maria said. Carol’s head swiveled just in time to see the suspicious potential-Skrull stalking down the street. She threw the car door open, tossing Goose into Maria’s lap (luckily Maria had quick reactions, catching the cat) and darting out after the individual. They were currently a woman with brown hair and sunglasses, but when they spotted Carol following them they darted into an alley. Carol followed them around the curve and found a dark-skinned man in glasses and a turtleneck.

“A Skrull!” Carol hissed to herself, and she broke into a run. The outfit Maria had lent her—jeans, white t-shirt, sneakers; apparently, all of Carol’s old clothes were in storage—was not made for running the way her comfy Kree armor was. Still, she was hot on the Skrull’s trail, though not entirely sure where they were going.

She chased them around another corner just to find the Skrull dashing down a long street. Carol dashed after them, eyes widening as she realized they were going for a subway. No way, she thought, lifting her hand and blasting a wide ray of glow to the right of the Skrull. They staggered, falling to the ground and losing control of their shape. Green skin and an oddly shaped head appeared in place of a human one, and the Skrull glanced nervously at Carol. She looked around to ensure they were alone before coming forward.

“How did you find me?” Carol demanded.

“I’ve been following you since you left the ship,” the Skrull admitted.

“Does anyone else know where I am?”

“No,” the Skrull answered, eyes flashing. He was reaching for something, so Carol, on instinct from her training, lifted her hand and shot a hole through his chest. He fell backward, mouth lolling open and arm dropping to his side. He wasn’t holding a weapon, but it was some sort of device that Carol recognized.

A communication device. Carol shot it with a ray, destroying it. She surged forward and looked through his jacket, finding nothing else besides a Skrull blaster, and dragged him over to a dumpster where she hid the body.

She stood for a while in silence before walking back through the ally slowly to return to where Maria was. Her head was a whirlpool of realizations and assumptions, and she was coming slowly to a simple fact: this was a temporary escape.

She emerged to see Maria holding Goose. As soon as Maria spotted her, she began waving enthusiastically. Carol put her smile back on, returning the gesture, and carefully crossed the street, returning to the car.

Already, though, her time on Earth was slipping through her fingers like sand.


	9. Karaoke

“Maria, I just want you to know, you’re one of those forever-friend.”

Maria laughed at this. “Carol, you are too, a thousand times over.” She returned. They were sitting in a bar, though they avoided counter seats, instead taking to a table in the corner. 

They were donning cheap necklaces they’d bought on impulse when Maria had walked Carol through the mall, Maria’s reading Best Friend #1 and Carol’s reading Best Friend #2. Carol especially liked that they were magnetized to each other and looked like two halves of a heart. She kept letting them click together as she reviewed the day: walking around the streets, exploring the mall (it looked just as she remembered!), watching a cheesy action movie (Batman, Forever!), and, now, in the bar where she’d once slugged Martin Keeney, the jerk who had broken Maria’s heart.

She played with the little heart necklace.

“Everyone thinks that giving someone your heart has to be romantic,” Carol said, taking a sip of her second drink. Moscow Mule. “But it really doesn’t have to be. For example, Maria, you 100% have my heart, and Yon-Rogg can eat his heart out!” Carol announced, happily. She then threw the drink back and finished it off.

“Hm. Might wanna slow down there, Captain,” Maria replied, making Carol giggle. “You always were a light weight.”

“I can’t slow down, Maria. I am nursing a broken heart,” Carol answered. In her head, she told Maria, I don’t want to slow down, either, because this will probably be the last time I see my best friend if things go as I think they might go… “And I miss Monica. I love Monica so much. I wish she could come to a bar!”

Maria laughed. “You hold tight. I’m bringing your sorry, heartbroken self a nice big refill.” She got up, heading to the counter. Carol watched her for a long moment before looking up at the karaoke stage. She could remember doing karaoke with Maria, but now she was watching some guy belting out a Queen song. Good music, she thought, but he was butchering it. She didn’t think she could do much better, but watching him struggle inspired her suddenly. She stood, just as Maria returned.

“What are you doing, Carol?” Maria asked, bemused.

“Drink up, Maria. We’re going on that stage!” Carol said. Maria was taken aback.

“Whoa, there, how about you go and I watch? I’m not quite to that level—“

“That’s a deal! Promise you’ll watch?” Carol asked, taking a huge glug of her drink. She regretted it when it slid, hot, down her throat and punched her gut when it entered it. All the same, she oriented herself toward the stage, ready to march up there as soon as this guy was finished.

“I kind of have to,” Maria said, walking Carol over closer to the stage. At Carol’s sour expression, she amended her response. “Alright, I would want to watch anyway. You’ll do great. Here, let me help you get there and get set up.”

“No, I need no help! I can do this myself,” Carol said, determined. She gave Maria a sappy grin and a hug upon seeing her.

“I think I let you have too much,” Maria said, patting her back with a life.

“On the contrary, maybe not enough.” Carol pulled back, handing her a wink before taking to the stage. The other guy was leaving, and she had a chance to select a song on the machine. She knew what she wanted. She made her choice, straightening up and gripping the karaoke mic. 

She looked over the bar, half-wanting Martin Keeney or some other person who had done her and Maria wrong to be there, so she could punch their lights out. No one was there, and she scolded herself for wanting a fight to break out. There would be plenty of that if things went the way she was scared they would…probably why she kinda wanted a fight, just to take the edge off.

Alcohol never took her edge off like it did for other people. It made her edge…edgier? She guessed. The music was starting now, and she met Maria’s eyes, finding on her face a pleasant, loving expression. A good friend, that was what Maria was. Maybe even a sister. She was the best person Carol knew, she realized, because she hadn’t considered even for a moment visiting anyone on earth besides Maria and Monica.

Yet, she’d picked this song for Yon-Rogg. Still, it was well-chosen, it fit him perfectly.

After all, he gave love, ba-bum, a bad name. 

Carol yelled along to Bon Jovi (You Give Love A Bad Name), very aware that she sounded like a stray cat yowling at the moon. All the same, she could see Maria covering her mouth in good-natured laughter, and when the song was over she rushed up onto the stage, giving Carol a hug.

“So that’s how you feel, huh? That Yon-Rogg guy shot you right through the heart?” As she said it, she jabbed her pointer finger playfully into Carol’s chest. Carol laughed.

“Yes! He’s the worst. Just like freaking Martin. Wish he was here so I could beat him up in Yon-Rogg’s stead.” Carol said, and Maria let out a hyena-laugh.

“Here, stay on the stage, I got a good song we can belt out together. Come on,” Maria said, giving her a wink. Carol grinned in return and waited as Maria plugged in a song.

She recognized it immediately, and new it was for the two of them. A bit of a pick-me-up. Carol and Maria belted out the lyrics—Maria sounding considerably better than her blonde counterpart—to Gloria Gaynor’s I will Survive.

They tumbled off the stage together, laughing themselves close to tears. They stayed a while after that, cheering on any other karaoke singers, but never taking the stage again themselves. Carol felt she’d accomplished what she wanted to accomplish, she had everything she needed from Earth right in her heart. She gave Maria a million hugs, but Maria never complained about it. She let Carol drink as much as she want, even as she sucked down several waters to pull herself back into a place of sobriety.

It was getting later on. Carol knew Maria hadn’t intended to leave Monica with her mother the whole weekend, but she also sensed the importance of Carol needing her, and the fact that things could become dangerous. Maria didn’t understand the half of it. All the same, she knew to keep Monica out of it, keep her safe at grandma’s, and while Carol loved Monica and craved more time with her, that was for the best. She preferred Monica safe and far away rather than close by and in danger.

“Hey, Carol, you seem a bit sleepy. Let’s get out of here, okay?” Maria said with a smile, cocking her head. The friendship necklace gleamed at her collarbone.

“Promise me you’ll always keep it?” Carol asked, poking the necklace where it sat.

“Of course, hon, but you better make sure you do the same.” Maria answered.

“Can I have another promise?”

“What’s that Carol?” Maria asked. She had paid the bill for the night and was now leading Carol out. Carol felt bad about leaving Maria with that expense, but she didn’t have Earth money. What could she do?

“Promise you’ll move on if I go away again. Get some new friends, maybe fall in love. Don’t just…sink into Monica. Monica’s great, but you can’t hide behind being a mom. You’re still Maria, you know? You gotta live your life as Maria, not as Monica’s mom.”

Maria let out a small, slightly offended laugh at that. “Carol, I was mourning the loss of the best friend I ever had in my life.”

“And I appreciate that. You are…the only reason I came back to Earth. Forever and always my bestest friend. Which is why I want you to be happy. I gotta know you’re happy, or I can’t face what I have to face.” By then, Maria had guided Carol into a sitting position in the car. They had dropped Goose at home after the cheeseburgers, which was fortunate considering they’d ended up staying out for far longer than Maria thought they would.

“Carol, what are you talking about? You can’t be thinking about returning to the Kree Empire after everything they did to you.” Maria strapped her own seat belt over her chest, fixing Carol with a stern look that very much mismatched Carol’s drunken giddiness.

“We were laughing and having fun, and now you’re upset with me,” Carol observed. “But listen, Maria, I don’t wanna go back to the Kree. I won’t go back to them. They’re the worst, and I won’t do it. But I think…well, I know Ronan wants my powers. He’s gonna come for me.”

Maria’s face crinkled in pity and concern.

“I know losing me was hard,” Carol acknowledged.

“You can’t imagine,” Maria answered her. “You can’t imagine how hard it was, Carol. Back in high school, I was the cool girl. Ever since then, I’ve been struggling. Big time struggling. I’m always the odd one out. Especially after the Martin Keeney mistake.”

“Not a mistake. He tricked you. And you did your best. You make a fantastic mom.” Carol said. “And you can’t let Martin keep you from having fun.”

Maria let out a breath. “My friendship with you made being the odd one out bearable.”

Tears bubbled up in Carol’s eyes. “I wanna stay,” she admitted, her voice strained and weak. Pathetically weak, really. “I wanna stay so bad. But you and Monica could die or end up being leveraged against me, and that isn’t a risk I’m willing to take. I want you both to live and be happy. And to do that I have to deal with the Kree.”

Maria pulled up to her house. She stopped the car, turning it off, and looked over at Carol. Tears brimmed her eyes as well. “I tried to make friends after you left. None of them were the same as our friendship.”

“They’re different people than me. It won’t be the same.” Carol answered. “You have to build new memories with them.”

“I can’t replace you, like you met nothing.” Maria argued.

Carol tapped the friendship necklace. “You won’t be replacing me. We’ll always be best friends, and even if the Kree kill me, I’ll die with this around my next.”

Maria let out a shuddering noise and shook her head. Carol reached out and tugged her arm, pulling her into a sloppy hug.

“Maria, I want you to be happy. Make new friends. Maybe even date again. Don’t stop living life because I’m gone. And don’t let Monica stop, either.” Carol said, firmly. “You promise me that, right now.”

“I promise,” Maria said, her voice a bit broken. She pulled back, wiping her cheeks. “This is so painful, but it’s still better. At least you aren’t dead.” She smiled over at Carol.

“And we got to spend the whole day hanging out. It’s been real fun,” Carol answered her. She felt sobered up by all the emotions that had coursed through her, and tuckered out all the same. The two women got out and began walking toward the front door. “You remember that person earlier?” Carol asked.

“They were an alien, weren’t they?” Maria asked, deadpan.

“Yup. Skrull, just like you thought. You’re a regular alien expert,” Carol replied, and Maria snorted as she opened the door. They walked in and the cat weaved through their legs, rubbing his face against them. Carol stooped and picked the sweet cat up, kissing his face. His ears flattened to his head in annoyance so she stopped, holding him to her chest instead. “I think they’re following me. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“They might already know you’re with me,” Maria said.

“Maybe,” Carol agreed. “But they’ll leave you alone after I go. Hopefully. And if not I have some strategies for how to deal with that, too.”

“Ugh. Sounds like a problem for tomorrow,” Maria answered. Carol laughed.

“You’re right about that,” she agreed. They headed to bed.


	10. Monica Rambeau

Carol woke up without a hangover.

She got up, following a fairly standard morning routine: long steamy shower, get dressed, deodorant, and head to the kitchen. Maria, who woke up first almost always, was already in there making breakfast.

“Maria, you’re an angel,” Carol praised as she smelled the bacon.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re spoiled,” Maria answered. “I called Monica and my mom. They’re doing good. I told them I would come pick up Monica tonight. Want to drop by and visit her?”

That tugged at Carol’s heart. She felt weak, but, still. “Yeah,” she admitted.

“Alright, after breakfast we’ll stop by. Then I’ll drive you where you need to go. Okay?” Maria answered. Carol picked Goose up, scratching beneath his chin. “Oh, that reminds me. Can you fill up his food bowl? He’s starving.” Carol followed those orders quickly and without complaint. When she came back, food was on a plate for her, and Maria was already eating. 

“Ooh, thanks for waiting.” Carol teased. Maria smirked.

“I did all the work cooking, so I’ll decide when breakfast begins. You got that, Captain?”

“Aye, aye,” Carol replied. They ate the rest of breakfast, and Carol headed over to get her suit, which she’d left in Maria’s bedroom. She picked it up, messing with the control panel on the arm until the small, pager-like communication device came out. It had the Kree symbol on it.

She walked to Maria. “Keep this on you, okay? Push it if you’re in an emergency. I’m talking life or death.”

“So, you’re saying I can’t push it if I’m just missing my best friend?” Maria answered, cocking an eyebrow.

Carol gave a half-smirk. “Listen here, this is a one-time kind of thing. You push it once and I can track you to your location from anywhere. I’ll come at once, as soon as you push it, because I’ll know it’s serious.”

“Assuming you survive the Kree?” Maria answered. “Speaking of, what is your plan after you leave?”

Carol let out a small laugh. “Run. Hopefully, eventually, I can get a sense of if they’ve lost interest in me. I just want to avoid them for the most part.”

“If they lose interest, will you come home?” Maria asked.

Carol hesitated. “I want to. I’m afraid of the danger associated with the Kree. I know they have a lot of enemies throughout the galaxy. The only armor I have is Kree armor.” She held it up at that. “I’ll be easy to recognize.”

“Are those Kree colors?” Maria asked.

“Yeah.”

“Well, change the colors and the symbol. That should help.” Maria answered her. They headed out the door, getting into the car. Little Goose watched them go from the window. Carol started fiddling with the control panel, and found a way to alter the colors. “Ooh, do red, gold, and blue. Airforce colors.”

Carol did just that. “It looks better now.”

“Can you change the symbol?” Maria asked. Carol frowned and began fiddling with the control panel again.

“I can change it to a different type of star,” Carol said. Maria nodded, so Carol changed it to a different style of star. A silence built up between them.

“So, this is really it? I won’t see you for a while after this?” Maria asked.

“Probably so. Unless the Kree decide they suddenly don’t want to get me, which I doubt.” Carol admitted. “The future is looking very uncertain for me.”

“Not for me. I can picture mine pretty clearly,” Maria replied. Carol shot her a warning look. “Although, in light of yesterday, I will do my best to put myself out there, etc, etc.”

“Good. All I can ask for is your best,” Carol replied, exchanging a smile with Maria. They pulled up to Maria’s mom’s house and Maria headed toward the door, Carol straggling behind nervously. Maria explained to her mom that Carol was going on a long trip, to which her mom naturally responded by hugging Carol and telling her how beautiful her hair was. Nonetheless, there weren’t too many questions asked, and Maria distracted her mother while Carol had a chance to talk to Monica.

She went and joined Monica on the floor in front of the television, where she was coloring. “Is that Miss Captain Marvel again?” Carol asked, goadingly.

“Don’t call her Miss Captain Marvel, she’s just Captain Marvel,” Monica replied, lifting her eyebrows playfully.

“Why, yes, ma’am,” Carol answered, “You know, I reevaluated a few things, and I think I might be needing that name.”

“Really?” Monica asked, her eyes lighting up.

“That’s right. You mind if I borrow it for a while, use that name while I’m off-world, and when you’re older I give it back to you?”

Monica threw her arms around Carol’s neck. “Of course, Auntie Carol! It’s all yours, okay?” She sat back, grinning still, when another part of what Carol had said finally sunk in. “Wait a second, off-world?”

Carol let her smile slip away. She nodded solemnly. “That’s right. Unfortunately, I’ve gotta skip town for a bit. Just until the dust on my past life settles, alright?”

Monica pouted, but nodded. “I understand. The life of a superhero takes a lot of sacrifice. That’s why Captain America’s in the ice.”

Carol nodded. “You’re right about that, hon-bun.” She said. Then she scooped Monica up to her again, squeezed her tight, and considered never letting go.


	11. Goodbye, Earth

Maria left her a few miles away from her ship, per her request.

It had been a quick goodbye, because Carol could hardly stand it, but she still had the feeling of a hug around her chest, and the friendship necklace rested between her collar bones. She knew she would miss Maria no matter what, and no amount of goodbyes would fix that. Still, this was for the best. She had to keep Maria and Monica safe.

Carol had changed in the car and walked the rest of the way to the escape pod in her uniform. Everything felt uncomfortable and rubbery, doubled by her self-evaluation, which revealed Ronan had turned her implant up to blow more of the glow from being free in her body. She sorta wanted to get rid of the implant, but figured it was dangerous to remove. Especially with less glow than she’d had before, she might not be able to heal herself. 

So, she sat in the trash heap of an escape pod and began to boot it back up. She was heading back into space, and she was just glad the Skrull (probably Skrulls, if she was being realistic) that followed her onto Earth hadn’t found the pod and destroyed it.

All the same, she initiated takeoff, heading into the atmosphere. She looked back on the beautiful planet—all swirling white-silver clouds twisting over blue, brown, and green—and knew that her heart would always belong there, even if she no longer did.

She looked ahead. There weren’t too many viable planets she could go to nearby. She needed to get out of there, and fast. Sakaar was sorta close to here, but that hulking green planet was dangerous at best. Still, she wasn’t exactly presented with a plethora of options, here. She had to just suck it up and go to Sakaar. She began to pilot her small escape pod in that direction, hoping things turned out okay for Maria and Monica. If the Skrulls and the Kree could just leave them alone and chase the person they really wanted instead, everything should be fine.

It was a long, quiet journey. She found herself wishing she’d accepted Maria’s offer to grab lunch, because the nervous knots in her stomach had untied and now she was starving. That was fine, though, there would surely be something on Sakaar. She sighed, fiddling with her hair. She’d let Monica tie it back in a braid before she’d left, but now she regretted even that. She should have cut it all off; after all, she’d grown it as long as she had because stupid freaking Yon-Rogg liked it long.

Hopefully she wouldn’t see it again.

She was nearly to Sakaar when a loud whoosh signified ships jumping through wormholes to travel at the speed of light. She turned to her right, large bursts of light filling her gaze. She could see, even at this distance, that it was a Kree fleet, and she recognized the view of a Skrull captain held prisoner by on board.

She could also see Ronan.


	12. Yon-Rogg

Carol sat in a cell on-board, exhausted and feeling thoroughly defeated.

She had barely made it halfway to Sakaar before she’d been apprehended. Random guards she didn’t know pulled her off her ship as soon as they had her in range (didn’t take long to surround her; Kree ships were far faster than escape pods) and shoved her into a cell.

She was almost finished feeling sorry for herself when Yon-Rogg walked around the corner and into the hallway. He stopped in front of her, staring down with a blank, impassive face.

“You changed your uniform,” he observed deftly.

Carol smiled. “I don’t want to align myself with the Kree Empire anymore.”

“Why?” Yon-Rogg asked, his voice rough. “You were fine with everything we did—every action you took as a soldier of Kree—until it hurt you. It never bothered you until the moment the gun was pointed your way.”

Carol’s mouth fell open. Yon-Rogg’s blank expression morphed into a cruel smirk.

“Never put that together, did you? You were okay with all of it until the exact second things weren’t perfect for you. Did you ever consider that I didn’t know you? You were aligned with an enemy of Kree.”

“Dr. Lawton?”

“Mar-Vell. A Kree solider, Vers,” Yon-Rogg said, his voice flat. “Someone whose opinion you valued over mine, despite only knowing him in a past life.”

“Past life?” Carol shot to her feet. “I am Carol Danvers, not Vers. You can’t just pick a new name and create a soldier!”

“I can’t?” Yon-Rogg asked, piquing an eyebrow. Carol’s cheeks burned. “I’m fairly certain I did. And you were a fantastic soldier, Vers, and you will be again. We captured that Skrull ship; that is how we found you. As soon as you left C-53, you became ours.”

“And if I had stayed?” Carol asked, challengingly. She had to know if she had done the right thing, if she had protected Maria and Monica.

“We eventually would have simply mounted a wide-scale attack on C-53, destroying the satellite and taking you,” Yon-Rogg explained. “Don’t underestimate the importance you play to Ronan.”

“So, what now? You guys are just going to try and wipe my mind again?” Carol asked.

Yon-Rogg’s eyes flickered. “Hopefully, we’ll only erase Carol. We can keep Vers.”

Carol was filled with disgust. “I don’t love you. Not anymore.”

“It wasn’t your love I was worried about,” Yon-Rogg said, his voice as smooth and unconcerned as ever, but the cool attitude didn’t reach his golden eyes.

“Sure. And just plant me back on Starforce?”

“No,” Yon-Rogg said, casting his eyes down. “I’m sure Ronan will want to keep you close at hand, even though you seem to be impervious to orders.”

“I’m not—ugh, nevermind. I’ll never work for Ronan. You can tell him that.” Carol growled.

“You will as long as the implant remains in place and your memory can be wiped,” Yon-Rogg replied, with a small sigh. “Really, you’re better as Vers. I can’t wait to see you when you’re more yourself.”

Carol gave a rough, dry laugh. “Yeah, you’re right, but just remember that I have to be some twisted version of myself to love you!” 

She said it to hurt him, and she saw the insult land in a line that appeared on his forehead, between his eyes. “I’ll be seeing you, Vers.” He said, his voice a bit softer, and he turned and swiftly left.

Carol watched him go, feeling for a moment a bit delicate and vulnerable—a bit like Vers—before she swallowed the tears down and shook her head. She gripped the friendship necklace she’d tucked beneath her suit, rubbing it between her thumb and forefinger again and again. She had to remember what real, pure friendship—without a hint of taking advantage—had felt like on Earth.

Remember Earth, she told herself, again and again.

Soon Ronan would summon her.


	13. Captain Marvel

Ronan’s control room was as large as a ball room.

It featured a wide array of windows throughout which space was clearly visible, sparking and filled with bright, vibrant colors. They’d kept travelling, so that Sakaar was a distant green spot, like a tiny marble, on the horizon.

Ronan stood, staring out that window. Presumably, looking at Sakaar. Carol was dragged to the center of the room, just in front of the stairs leading to his outlook, and forced into a kneeling position right in front of Ronan.

Ronan turned slowly. He wore an unconcerned expression as he observed her, holding his cosmi-rod in both hands. He studied her before walking forward, to the edge of the stairs.

“What should I call you: Vers or Carol Danvers?”

Carol held her head down.

“Answer me, weapon.” The guards pulled harder on the ties they’d forced onto her hands, tears beading in her eyes.

“I won’t be your weapon,” Carol answered, finally, glaring up at Ronan.

He evaluated her silently, then cast his eyes over the room at large. Carol realized, abruptly, that besides Yon-Rogg the room was populated by only low-level guards. She frowned at this realization, and Ronan spotted her noticing.

“You’re right,” he said after a delay. “You will not be my weapon. And, despite what Thanos and the Supreme Intelligence want, I’m not going to wipe your mind and turn you back into a weapon. Even with amnesia, you were never what I wanted as a soldier, much less as a wife. You are pathetic, Vers. Carol. Whatever you call yourself, you are a stain on the Kree Empire.”

Carol’s breaths went short, her eyes widening as Ronan hefted the cosmi-rod. She understood what his intentions were, now.

“Bend her,” Ronan said, and they did so quickly, so her head lulled forward as if stuck into a guillotine. Carol tried to twist her head to see Yon-Rogg—for some reason, it meant something to her to know what expression he wore as he watched her execution—but he was not standing where he had been.

Ronan lifted the cosmi-rod. It swirled with power, the pressure and heat of it filling the room. Carol tugged at the men who held her still, fear coursing through her, but the implant kept her cold and empty. There was no glow to cushion her.

He swung the cosmi-rod down. The moment he did, she felt an explosion, a burst of power all at once. It swelled, up past the highest point she had experienced in the past, and surpassing it by leaps and bounds. The glow effused from her, orange spilling from her eyes like tears, eking out of her arms and legs, out of every point of her body.

She caught the cosmi-rod in her bare hand; it was still powerful, she had to leap back to avoid it.

“Impossible!” Ronan shouted. Carol swelled with power, the implant on her back breaking in the heat, crushed immediately. She reached back and pulled it out of her neck, gritting her teeth in response to the pain, and the glow healed her.

For an elated second, Carol believed she’d freed herself. Then, she glanced over at the desk on the outlook of Ronan’s and her heart sank; things were no longer simple. Yon-Rogg stood there with a firmly resolved expression, watching her carefully. He held the remote to the implant in one hand, apparently knocked to full power.

She met his eyes.

“To answer your question, Ronan, I’m Carol and I’m Vers. And, more than that, I’m Captain Marvel. So you can watch for me. I’m going to be one hell of a stain on the Kree Empire—ack!” Captain Marvel dropped mid-speech when Ronan swung his cosmi-rod again. It whooshed powerfully, catching her about mid-waist as she was floating a few feet in the air. She caught it in her hands, using blasts from the glow to stabilize and then throw it back. The cosmi-rod sailed through the air, and Ronan scrambled after it.

“Shoot her!” He yelled. The guards aimed and fired, and she closed her eyes to better focus up and absorb the blows. Get out of here, Yon-Rogg, she thought desperately. She opened her eyes as she blasted them back out, not enough to be lethal, but enough to throw them all off their feet.

Yon-Rogg hadn’t gotten out of here, Captain Marvel noted with some disappointment. Instead, he was walking straight towards her, yelling, “Vers, stand down!”

“You can call me Captain Marvel now, Yon—“ She was cut off when his gravity blasts hurled her backwards, straight into the wall, where he forced her to remain still.

“Good, keep her in place and I won’t execute you for your treachery, Yon-Rogg—“ Ronan began. Captain Marvel, deciding that she didn’t want to force Yon-Rogg to choose, poured all her vigor into throwing the gravity blast off of her. Captain Marvel then flew forward, ducking the cosmi-rod and hitting Ronan with a heavy uppercut. He swung again, tagging her hip painfully, but as she began to heal she battered him with hits to the chest. She used a photon blast to knock his cosmi-rod loose, and then another to send Yon-Rogg sprawling into the wall before he could attack from behind. She then grabbed his Kree armor, pulling his face close to hers.

“I recommend not killing Yon-Rogg, ever,” Captain Marvel growled into his face. “And I would send you off to the Collective early to ensure you wouldn’t, but executions aren’t a fix-all. A new puppet head will rise up to obey Thanos’ every command.”

“You will find very quickly that I am not a puppet head,” Ronan growled. “Captain Marvel.” He spat the last part, but it sounded so good on a villains’ lips that she felt giddy. Earlier, she’d felt whacky—a grown adult seriously calling herself after a superhero—but now she felt powerful.

She slugged Ronan for good measure. And then, because it felt so addictively good, she did so twice more so that blue blood stained his white teeth, bared in a snarl. An alarm went off, and she looked over to see Yon-Rogg had set off for backup.

She was feeling powerful, but also somewhat spent. She didn’t want to put Yon-Rogg in an even worse situation; it was time to go. She met his eyes, and in them there was an understanding. Her anger rotted away, replaced by forgiveness. She accepted what he had done and decided he would never have the opportunity to do it again.

Goodbye, Yon-Rogg, she thought. She blasted the floor beneath her, flying down, and knocked soldiers over with photon rays until she reached the hull next to the escape pods. Instead of getting into one of the escape pods, she used the glow to barrel straight through the door. She flew so fast she looked like a strip of light whizzing through the sky. She didn’t know exactly what she planned to do to disrupt the Kree Empire and she didn’t know where to find the best places to hide. But, she knew where she was going, at least for the moment.

On the horizon, there was a little green marble called Sakaar calling her name.


	14. Epilogue: Nick Fury

Maria was lazing on the couch, sipping apple cider.

She watched Monica where she sat on the floor, doodling Captain Marvel over and over again. The drawing had changed to fit Carol, which melted Maria’s heart a little. She flipped through the old scrapbook, took another sip of apple cider, and fought back tears. On the floor, Monica giggled and said, “Goose, no!” He was walking across her pictures, so she picked him up, pulling him into her lap and scratching behind his ears.

Maria was just getting ready to remind that Monica to pack for that sleepover with her friend Anna tonight when the doorbell rang. She frowned, glancing over.

“Mom, someone’s here,” Monica reported.

“I know, hon, I’ll get it,” Maria replied, setting her scrapbook and cider down. Goose jumped up on the coffee table and licked the rim of it as Maria walked to the door. She opened it just a crack and found a handsome black man outside her door, wearing sunglasses and a brown jacket paired with a striped tie. She smiled in surprise, opening it further and remembering Carol’s words, which boiled down to: get a life. Easier said than done, Maria had thought at the time, though she would have to reevaluate if attractive men planned to keep showing up on her doorstep. “Well, hello there, what can I do for you?” Maria asked, cocking her head. She imagined Carol would be proud of her; she’d been planning to go to a church dinner to socialize in respect of Carol’s wishes, but if things went well here she might be able to ditch those plans.

“Are you Maria Rambeau?” The man replied, his voice stern.

“Yessir, and what can I call you?”

“Nick Fury, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. I believe we were set to meet yesterday about some sort of top secret encounter.” Of all the foul luck! I should have known it was too good to be true, Maria thought bitterly.

“Ah, I remember. Um, now’s not a good time,” Maria said, beginning to close the door. Nick caught it and began to force it open.  
“I insist, ma’am, it will only be for a moment.” He won the battle, the door coming open, and Maria was forced to let him in. Maria sighed, guiding Nick Fury to her kitchen table and warning Monica to keep her butt seated in front of the TV. They sat across from each other, Maria sipping at her apple cider.

“Sorry I missed our meeting. That was rude of me,” Maria admitted, lifting her eyebrows. “However, there is nothing I can do to help you.”

“You could help me by giving me the information you claimed to have,” Nick Fury rebutted. “Our satellites have been going crazy. Someone is messing with something, and I need answers. Tell me what you know if you know anything.”

Maria nibbled her lower lip, gazing down at the table. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

Nick Fury leaned forward, fixing her with a stern gaze. “Try me.”

So, Maria told him everything. She explained Carol Danvers’ strange powers (“Like Captain America,” Nick Fury said. “Sorta, but more alien,” Maria tried, but he seemed set on believing something similar to that) and she told him about the Kree Empire and everything Carol had told her. He seemed to take the bit about aliens as lies Carol had scripted, but seemed to believe in some parts of it at least.

Towards the end, Nick Fury closed the little notebook he’d been scribbling notes into and pocketed it into his jacket. “Thank you for giving me your account, Ms. Rambeau. I promise you that I will be in contact.”

“Oh, okay, thank you,” Maria answered him. Nick Fury took out a business card, passing it to her.

“Contact me if you hear from this Carol again,” he said. “Oh, and, although I cannot verify the existence of aliens, I know the tesseract is real. It’s in S.H.I.E.L.D. custody currently, as it was found in the ruins of Dr. Lawton and Carol Danvers’ crash. It was smaller than, some energy having left it, but it is almost wholly reformed now This much I know to be fact.”

Maria’s eyes were wide. “That’s…insane.”

Nick Fury looked grim. “Not as insane as aliens,” he said. “I’ll be on my way, but before I go one part of your story caught my interest in particular. That pager you mentioned, may I see it?”

“Carol’s pager?” Maria repeated. She reached into her pocket, pulling it out. “I always keep it on me, in case of a big emergency…” She trailed off, staring down at the little hunk of metal.

“It’s an insurance. Maria, if you want to…I think it may be for the best to hand it over to me. You could call her for a small scale emergency, like a robbery or a murder, but you don’t have the clearance to know about larger threats like I do. If I had it, I could call a powerful being here in the case of—“

“—An apocalypse?” Maria finished, her eyes wide. “You trust Carol that much?”

“I trust that it is better to have some kind of insurance rather than none at all,” Nick Fury responded. Maria looked down at the pager in her hand and felt suddenly selfish. It wasn’t as if this was her final tie to Carol—the half-heart necklace under her shirt served as that—and she didn’t foresee herself having a crisis worthy enough of calling Carol instead of the police. She was okay, but the world at large might not be. They might need Carol more than she did.

With some hesitation, Maria placed Captain Marvel’s pager in Nick Fury’s hand.


End file.
